


Lemniscate

by teasingyourtears



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 61,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teasingyourtears/pseuds/teasingyourtears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Let's just say in some alternate universe, there's a couple that's just like us. Only, I'm not heartbroken and you're still you and not sick [...] I don't want to be those people. I want us. You. This."</p>
<p>Beca loses both her love and best friend in one kiss, seeking solace in the one person she'd never thought would fill that place. Things start out fine but it soon shows signs of cracks again. As she falls deeper again, can she convince the redhead that they're worth much more - that their infinity is bigger?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the first day.

**Prologue**

There are many scenarios in which a breakup could take place. This depends on each individual's personality, blood type, zodiac sign, horoscope and their current stance on love relationships. Some are brutal; some filled with hate and angry words; some with a fountain of tears and heaps of broken-hearts; some are actual crime scenes; some are nonchalant; some are regretful... or forgetful; others are mutual, relieved and possibly filled with slight laughter. Mine?

None of the above.

It was a Thursday afternoon. I remember because I had to deliver a huge bouquet of roses – mixed whites and reds, to a client at a mall. I loved going to that mall – one of my best friends works there as a barista. We always go to Benji for a free cup of latte. Or chai. I remember ending the call with my client as I stepped onto the upper landing, my eyes landing on the signboard hanging over the brown-bricked exterior of the cafe.

_Cafe Magique._

Yeah, every folk working in that cafe knows a bit of magic. Benji? He's the head magician and I've got to admit: he's good. He's so good that when I pushed the doors open, I had to blink twice to make sure that I wasn't seeing things. Jesse was there. Benji was there. Sitting at the same table, hands touching each other's, eyes locked on each other's, lips latched and pressed into each others.

"Jesse?" I remember my voice floating out of my mouth like a wisp of smoke – weak and pungent, like I was almost afraid of disrupting some sort of important moment.

So when people ask me "What happened?", I could only tell them that it was filled with the aroma of roasted coffee beans, surrounded by the mindless chatter of other cafe-goers, and etched with the image of two pairs of puppy eyes staring back at me in horror. That's my break up scene.

And I vaguely remember a huge bouquet lying on the floor next to my foot.

* * *

**Chapter One: Day 1**

The shrill ringing of the alarm clock did nothing to alleviate my throbbing headache. Ugh, too much gin. I feel around for my glasses, wincing when I find them broken under my bottom.

_There goes the Raybans._

Fine, I'll go without my glasses. I squint and try to make out the objects lying around the bathroom. An empty gin bottle is balancing haphazardly across the toilet seat, my jacket and my favorite Batman tshirt are strewn around the bathroom floor that is somehow decorated with puddles of brown stuff, and my pair of jeans are hanging on the door that is left open.

Before I could get up properly without worsening the throbbing, the door flings open and an angry-looking blonde takes its place. Her intimidating figure blocks out most of the sunlight that is streaming in through the skylights just outside my bathroom. I'm grateful.

"Becs? What the heck happened?"

I look at her all drowsy and before I could string my words together, brown stuff comes pouring out from my mouth.  _Oh so that's where all those brown stuff came about._  After I'm done, I look up again and her face has disgust written all over.

Disgust and worry.

The next thing I know, cold water is upon me and besides the sound of the liquid splashing against my skin and the surfaces around me, I can hear her screaming. Doesn't help the throbbing, doesn't help the throbbing.

"Seriously, what happened? Are you alright? Why are you naked and drinking by yourself? Why didn't you answer my calls!"

I try to answer but the roar of the shower head belittles my voice. She turns off the tap and grabs my shampoo – squeezing a handsome amount onto my hair and starts scrubbing them. Somehow the ridiculously rough scrubbing action does great help to my headache. I peer up at her to thank her but she silences me again with a glare.

"You have everyone worried – your dad, me, Ms Dean-"

"Ms Dean? What's she to do with this?"

"You didn't deliver the bouquet yesterday, Beca. The client has called to complain."

_The bouquet. The client. The mall. The cafe. Benji. Jesse._

_Oh._

"Oh crap."

Aubrey's face morphs into an "yeah huh" expression as she turns the tap on. Once again, her voice gets drowned out by the thundering jet and the voices in my head. Someone is singing in my head.

_Benji and Jesse sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G._

I shake my head to get rid of that singing voice.  _No, I do not want to be reminde- oh shut up!_  The yelp from Aubrey stops my shaking and I look up at her again. She gives me the look of disbelief and turns to grab a clean towel from the cubby nearby.

"Ms Dean wants you to call her  _asap_." She says, her voice softer this time as she wipes the droplets of water off my face. I guess that is when she noticed my bloodshot eyes and swollen nose.

"Beca. You've been crying," she halts the wiping and pulls me into a bone-crushing hug.

That's the thing about Aubrey - another one of my best friends. No, scratch that. My  _only_  best friend now. I mean, how do you go about labeling someone who has just kissed your boyfriend like that? Do you still call that person your best friend? Anyways, back to Aubrey.

We've known each other since we were born; Mr Posen is my dad's best friend and vice versa. Our moms literally gave birth to us both the same day in the same hospital. She's still hung up that I was born in the afternoon whilst she was born that night. We grew up together and went to the same schools together – although we did split up during college because of our different majors. She did law school while I went the other way for social sciences and music. Dad wasn't pleased but well. Despite our interests in different things, we are really close. One look and we know what the other is thinking or feeling.

Only this time, she can't figure out what's eating at me, shredding my insides into tiny, million bits.

"Beca?"

"What?"  _Did I just fall asleep again?_

"You fell asleep again. You should see Dr Burke regarding that micro-sleep thing."

I shrug. I think I should see Dr Love instead to see if there's something wrong with me that my boyfriend would turn for... other men.

"Is there something wrong with me, Aub? Like, is there anything fundamentally wrong with me?"

I can see the clogs working and turning in that blonde head of hers as she ponders and considers my question. Right, wasn't expecting a very serious answer but then again, Aubrey.

After what seems to be a thousand years, my best friend finally makes a sound again. She shakes her head and says in a firm voice.

"No." I smile, grabbing the towel over to continue drying the rest of my body. We're close but as we grow older it just gets kind of awkward – ignoring the fact that she's standing in the middle of my pukegate and I'm utterly naked.

"But," she continues, making me pause wiping my right armpit. "There  **is**  something wrong. What happened?"

I sigh, knowing full well what Aubrey Posen is capable of.

And I was right because she is now screaming her lungs down the receiver into the ears which I believe belong to my ex-boyfriend Jesse Swanson. Oh that suave man.

I hope Aubrey gives it to him.

"You son of a floor-licking bag of potatoes! How could you do that to her! How could you?! You know what, you explain to her – on your knees! With durian shells underneath them!" I wave frantically at her, mouthing big "No" to her.

She looks at me confused as she continues her tirade, "Oh wait, wait.  **Wait** , you idiot."  _What_  she mouths. I gesture by having my hand air-slicing my throat.  _Cut it out! I don't want to see or hear from him!_

Aubrey shoots me an unsure look before slamming the call, "You know what, Jesse? You're an eye dee eye oh tee for doing such a thing. You and Benji both!"

We eye each other for a while, both unsure of what to do. The sound of my cellphone ringing breaks our reverie and Aubrey retrieves the device for me. She takes a glance at the caller ID with worry washed over her face and she quietly passes it to me.

Ms Dean.

"Hi Ms Dean. Yeah, I'm terribly sorry – there was an accident. I promise it won't happen again. No! Of course not! You know what, you people are unfeeling ingrates who only care about having money in your banks made by poor people like me! You all are assholes! Assholes!" I yell and fling the cellphone over my shoulder, my heart sinking when I hear a splash.

_There goes my iPhone. What an expensive breakup._

I take a deep breath, not believing what has happened. Day one and I'm this wreckage of a person – a possibly gay ex-boyfriend, a destroyed beyond hope friendship with my gay best friend, and I called my boss an asshole. Just as a fresh wave of tears hit me, I feel arms wrap tightly around my torso. It helps that Aubrey is way taller than me and has longer arms. Eyes shut, I lean and melt into her embrace, trying to seek every comfort I could find in this sudden darkened world that enclaves me.

* * *

"Asshole?  **Asshole?** " I cringe as Ms Dean repeats the word in an exceptionally loud voice. It would be funny if the situation isn't like this because usually she speaks in this very casual and soulful voice that naturally calms people's nerves and not kill them.

"My employee failed to deliver the bouquet to our client and thus, caused the proposal to fall through  **and**  she calls me an  **asshole**?" Ms Dean asks again, her eyes bulging as she tries to level me with her glare.

I worry my lower lip as I carefully ponder my next words. They have to be gold to get me through this.

"Can I sit down, Ms Dean? I'm kind of tired."

_Damned right, those are golden words right there, Beca Mitchell._

My pink-haired boss looks at me as if I've grown two heads. I believe my own face mirrors hers at that instant. Shaking her head, she sighs and motions for me to sit down. I quickly take the seat across from her and relaxes. Her chair is always so comfortable.

"So what happened, Mitchell? It better be some good reason!"

I open and close my mouth. The words that are swimming in the back of my mind are teetering on both pathetic and far-fetched.  _Should I go for the summarized version?_

"I fell out of love, Ms Dean."

"Out of love? And you call me an  **asshole**."

Now, I'm really thankful our conversation went this way because Ms Dean is the kind of boss who, if she scolds you or criticizes you, you still have hope. I've been in her office for the past half an hour and she even let me take a seat. I exhale with relief as she continues to complain and gripe about the young today and their attitude towards work.

Everyone in our office loves Ms Dean. She has started out as a junior copywriter at Ogilvy & Mather and worked her way up to become Creative Director. It was her 7th year in the company when she realized that she didn't like her job anymore. So she came out and created from scratch  _Dean's List_ at a huge loft in the heart of Manhattan. We do loads of various errands and projects for advertising, publishing and events planning & organizing.

"Alright, Mitchell. You may go. Just don't pull this on me again!" I hear her yell as the door closes behind me. I rub my face and sigh.

_Long day ahead._

I try to come up with the day's To-Do list as I walk down the corridor past a glass writing board to my desk. That board is used to indicate what current projects each person and/or team are doing. I turn to look at my slot and see that  _Project Proposal with a million roses_  has been savagely rubbed off. I sigh again as I reach my desk, feeling the eyes of my colleagues burn into the back of my skull as I nonchalantly turn on my computer and settle down in my seat.

The first brave soul to approach me is this big blonde who calls herself Fat Amy. She's really good at socializing and PR but she's also very loud and filterless. She's from Tasmania and apparently she rules in every thing and/or competition.

"Hey short stuff," she greets, offering a packet of salted cashews. "Good talk with Ms Dean?"

I shake my head and smile as happily as I could. When I have free time out of work, I would never spend it with my colleagues. We have this sort of one-sided "I don't know you if I see you outside of work" relationship with me being the more anti-social one. And besides, I have... I had Jesse and all my time was given to him. Did I mention Aubrey? Hmm. Anyways, that and also these people are weird.

Besides Fat Amy, sitting next to me to my right is Lilly Onakumara – a Japanese designer who speaks really softly but sings very loudly. Doesn't help when I'm rushing a proposal and she's singing with her earphones on. Behind us is our events guru Luke O'Brien who is so vain, he owns more beauty products than all the ladies in the office combined. If I had to bet my chips, I'd definitely mark him as playing for the boys' team. I'd even set him up with Benji but uh, I received a punch in the shoulder from Luke after he returned from the date so I guess that _straightened_  things out.

Working with Luke is this stocky-looking man with sandy hair called Bennett Allen. Everyone calls him Bumper though. Like Fat Amy, he's good with PR and accordingly, both of them are having some sort of competition to see who brings in the most sales and accounts. I've also heard from Lilly once at the pantry that the two have this strong and intense sexual tension going on. Whatever image that flashed across my head during that conversation with Lilly was definitely not a pretty sight.

_Ding!_

That's not the school bell, that's the ding from our pantry's microwave. A yelp from the receptionist cum administrator indicates that he has indeed burnt his lunch again.

"Unicycle!" Everyone choruses as he rushes to dispose of his burnt lunch. For the most meticulous person in the office, the afro guy is really dense. There's no one time when he doesn't burn his lunch. Fat Amy has told us with her usual conspiratorial voice that Unicycle does that on purpose to see the young pantry lady. I remember rolling my eyes when I heard that.

The sting from the smell of the burnt plastic reminds everyone of how we have yet again wasted an entire work morning achieving nothing on our To-Do lists. I look up when Lilly and Fat Amy nudge me to go with them for lunch.

"Thanks guys but I've already packed lunch." They nod and leave while I flip my lunchbox open.

_Time for youtube videos with funny cats._

I chortle and almost choke on my food watching the cat jump and miss the opposite ledge when I hear someone clear their throat.

One thing about this office space is that, everyone has no cubicle - it's a huge open space with beech desks everywhere covered with stacks of papers, moleskines and iMacs. Ms Dean doesn't think that creativity flows when all of us are cooped up in our "little hell hole doing God knows what." Verbatim.

Oh and she has skylights installed in the roof, along with huge ass windows so that "we can tap on the light given by our Mother Nature."

Pausing the video, I look up with as much annoyance as I could muster.

"Hi Beca."

"Chloe."

That ginger's cerulean eyes are unflinching as she continues her fake smile and incredibly fake formality.

"Mind if you lower the volume a little? I'm reading here." She waves her Snoopy & Friends recipe book in the air and gestures at it. I flatten my lips into what I hope is a smile and nods.

"Sure, why not? Won't want to disturb you and Snoopy." There - my first Chloe-glare of the day. Always an achievement.

The two of us have been at each other's throats since the day she stepped into the office. She has smiled sweetly at everyone of us (including myself) when Ms Dean introduced her on the first day. When our eyes met, there was this spark and it seemed to have ignited this rivalry between us. It could be because we are the two hottest girls in the office or that Ms Dean has simply slotted her into this project that I was halfway through and was so proud of. Man, did she mess up my plans for that project.

The boss probably did not receive the memo on our apparent rivalry because a week later, she proudly announced to the entire room,

"Chloe, Beca, you two are on the same team for all the projects from now on."

"You could cut the tension between them with a chopper." I'd heard Fat Amy whisper to the rest after we have both calmed down from that broadcast.

She raises her hands and clutches her left breast as a mock pained look flashes across her face. "Aww, like how you've disrupted your boyfriend and his boyfriend making out? Oh wait, I mean your  **ex**  boyfriend. Still, nice of you to finally think of others, Beca."

How did she know? Aubrey? Stacie! Ugh, that big-mouth brunette whose filter is worse than Fat Amy's and who has more beasts than brains (not true - I'm just jealous). Why would Aubrey go and rattle off to her girlfriend _whose best friend happens to be Chloe? Why?_

Lifting my right hand, I am about to return the redhead the finger when my cellphone goes off. My heart skips a beat when Jesse's name flashes across its screen. I turn back to Chloe and she's giving me this look which I've never seen before – at least not directed at me. It is as if she's feeling some sort of sympathy for me. She hitches her head towards the ringing thing and urges me with her eyes to answer it.

"Hello."

"Beca. Are you having lunch?"

I scoff as I check the clock on the wall. "No, no. I'm just having my lunchbox open for the air to eat. Air, you're welcome."

"Beca..."

I sigh, leaning against the vending machine in the pantry. The smell of burnt plastic still lingers around as I wait for him to continue. I can hear him breathing heavily at the other end of the receiver as if he's taking deep breaths to tell me something I don't want to hear.

And I'm right.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? For kissing my best friend? For mucking around with my feelings? For seeing somebody behind my back? For hurting me? It hurts, Jesse. It friggin' hurts. And it hurts more because it's Benji. No, no. It hurts more that you aren't whom I thought you were!"

"I'm sorry, Becs. I did love you bu-"

Tears sting my eyes as I try hard to keep my composure. I emphasize the word  _Try._ Ever since I saw them together, I've been rehearsing back and forth in my head what I want to say to him and to hurt him. I don't want this to be real.

"Jesse Swanson. Don't give me that pitiful excuse of an answer! First of all, you have no more right to say that four-lettered word. Second of all, I do not need your love!"

"Becs..."

"When?"

"What?"

"When did you... When did it start?" My voice meek.

He coughs. "About 6 months."

I can feel the bile rising up my gut and inching towards my throat.

"Up yours, Swanson! 6 months? 6 months! To think we have spent the past 6 months planning for a trip together! And all those movie marathons?! So what, when I dozed off during Star Wars, you guys were kissing from across my stomach on the couch? What do you treat me as? The faithful audience to witness your epic love story unfold? A fool so that you two can laugh as you tell your grandchildren about your younger days?"

"Becs, will you calm down?"

"I will not calm down!" I hear myself screaming. I am thankful that he has called now because my colleagues are away for lunch. Well all except Chloe. I quickly turn around and see her looking at me through the glass panels. Maybe it's the distance but for the second time that day, her expression is unreadable.

"Becs?" His voice breaks my reverie and I return to our fight.

"Jesse, you have been the one I was planning on marrying. Heck, we have been dating since senior year! How can you do this to me?!"

"Becs." I don't like the sound of his tone. I know that tone. It always bears bad news.

The tears that stung my eyes earlier has finally broken free from the gates. They're now flowing freely down my cheeks as I listen to him speak. Images of us in the past – ice cream dates, holding each other's hands during movies which he loves, him pushing me on the swing, us singing into the wind at the beach flash through my mind like a slow-motion slideshow. I cup my mouth as another fresh wave of tears hits me. My body shake as sobs wrack through my small frame.

This isn't me. This isn't Beca Mitchell.

"Forget me, Becs..."

As his voice trails off at the other end of the receiver, I roughly wipe my tears away with the back of my sleeves. Taking a huge breath to calm my nerves, I muster the most even voice I have in me.

"Forget you? That's too hard." My tear-stained voice now a squeak. Hate it when that happens. I shut my eyes as I prepare my next words. He broke me - I won't let him go unscathed.

"Becs-"

"Because I have never ever remembered you." _  
_

I fix my eyes on the blank screen as tears start to cloud my vision. It starts out as a sort of vignette, getting blurrier and blurrier. The last thing I hear is Chloe's voice, laced thick with concern. _That's odd._  Her cerulean eyes pierce through that cloud as everything else starts to fade to black.


	2. apology overload

Mud.

The feeling I get when I woke up. Like mud. It may sound weird but it's how it is: mud. A pool of brown sticky goo that either dirties your clothes or does greatness for your face. I rub the sleep from my eyes roughly, ignoring the burn that comes with it. Okay, I'm awake, I'm awake. I sniff hard, remedying the morning sinus that has plagued me since the start of the year as I roll over to my left.

The sun rays that sneaked in through the gaps in the blinds shine brightly against the off-white sheets next to me, emphasizing the emptiness. It feels weird, this empty space. It is sudden, it is nowhere, and it calls me out on the 7 years I've lost in that one single kiss.

_I'm as out of place as this space._

Maybe I was too rash. Maybe I shouldn't have just stormed out of that cafe and should have just sat down to listen to their explanation when they asked me to. Maybe-  _Yeah, but he asked you to forget him._

I close my eyes for a moment, unable to take anymore of this abstract pain that drips like acid on my heart.  _It's day 2, isn't it?_ The same voice booms inside my head. I frown; that voice sounds familiar. Am I going crazy already?

That thought snaps me out of my trance and my eyes shoot open – my sight landing on the small mirror atop the dresser next to the bed. I can see myself staring back at me – wide-eyed, paler than usual face, dark rings around my eyes that rival that of a panda's, and a broken lower lip. Strange; I don't remember fighting anyone. Not at least physically.

My gaze then leaves the mirror, tracing the sides of the wall, sliding down the corner to the standing lamp that Jesse has insisted on getting so that he "can read aloud the bedtime stories he'd wrote for me", and finally settling on the empty pillow next to mine.

Only, it's not empty this time.

A smile tugs on my lips as I watch Jesse flash me that infamous grin. His smile is lopsided, curling up towards his right eye and making him look goofier than ever. His eyes, mellow and filled with love stare back at mine – as if he has a lot of things to say, secrets that are meant for my ears only. My hand reaches out towards his face, tentative and weary. I gasp when my fingers pass through his cheek.

He looks unfazed by the action, his eyes still steeled on mine. I watch his lips part and my blood runs cold when I  _hear_  the next word that slips out from his mouth.

_Benji._

"Beca?"

I feel Aubrey's arms wrap around me like she did yesterday. Her warm cheek against my wet one as she rocks me back and forth like an infant. My arms are limb as she presses them tightly to my sides. For such a slender body, this woman is freakishly strong. I wanted to laugh at that. I wanted to laugh at my best friend's strength but I couldn't. I catch sight of myself in the mirror again – my mouth hanging open and my nose red with ache. I feel her grip over me tighten every time my throat vibrates. I'm screaming.

And I hear nothing.

All that's left are empty sheets and silent screams.

* * *

"Okay, just sit here while I clean up. Look, it's okay. Everything will be okay again, Becs." I hear her say as she rubs her hand against my back in a soothing manner.

"Sorry." The word slips out from my lips before I could stop myself.

We both gasp and Aubrey pushes me back, holding me at arm's length. It isn't usual for both of us to apologize. Scratch that – Aubrey and I never apologize. Except when I ran over Mr Pickles (her robovski hamster) with my Penny skateboard back in high school, and when she puked all over my DJ equipment before her first date with Hoyt. I remember ripping his ass apart when we caught him cheating with another cheerleader.

_Shit._

"You're not going to rip him one, are you?"

"Did you run over Mr Whiskers this time?"

"What?" We hear ourselves say, our voices echoing in the living room.

Aubrey rolls her eyes good-naturedly as she lies me back onto the couch. "No, I'm not even going to dirty my hands dealing with that asshat."

I nod, feeling somewhat relieved that she's not going to react like I did. Being grounded for 6 months is no joke. I frown when I realize I didn't manage to catch what she'd said. Aubrey stands up, ruffling my hair as she passes me to go to the kitchen. My eyes bulge when I see the many beer bottles that lined the kitchen island. The blonde is chucking them into a huge black trash bag with nonchalance playing on her features.

My gosh, did I have a party here without my knowing?

"Chloe sent you home yesterday. You passed out in the pantry." I hear her say and look up from my thoughts.  _I passed out?_  Her eyes are fixed on me intently; the trash bag hangs from her hand as she lofts over a wet piece of rag.

"Here, help me clean up. I don't want you focusing on those two idiots."

I trudge over and wince. My kitchen is totally trashed. Beer bottles are found everywhere – floor, kitchen counter, in the sink; some full, some empty. I also spy empty packs of Chinese food sticking out from the brimming trash can in the corner.

"Who did this? Did I throw a party whilst I was drunk and high on my sorrow?" I ask, picking up an empty bottle near the sink and wiping away the water stain. It is then that I notice the sheepish look on her face.

No.

"Sorry. Chloe didn't know what to do with you. You were asleep and bawling so she called me-"

"But you'd never do this." The blonde worries her lower lip and tears her eyes away from mine.

_No, she didn't._

"Please don't be mad at me..." I narrow my eyes at her when a realization dawns upon me.

"Stacie was here."

"Is here!" A cheery voice floats in and cuts off our conversation like it didn't matter. A tall, well-endowed brunette bounces into the kitchen and greets everyone with a bright smile. She can be spokesperson for  _Colgate_. No, wait; she  **is** the spokesperson for the toothpaste company.

Aubrey shoots me an apologetic look as Stacie pulls her in for a kiss. The brunette then pulls away to face me with an uneven look. Uneven because, I'm not sure if she's happy that I'm awake or if she's upset that I'm awake. I could never tell with Stacie Conrad. She's an enigma.

I've met the brunette through Aubrey – for obvious reasons. There is no other way that we'd meet: I'm in this industry and she's in the pharm. Which is weird because she does not fit in with the stereotypes at all. She's like the anti-thesis to the entire pharmaceutical world. She wears her lab coats that has been decorated with brightly-colored flowers; she sings whilst mixing chemicals while others are praying hard that theirs do not explode in their faces; she would mix stuff together and feed them to her lab mice just so that "they can look pretty with neon green whiskers."

That experiment did work, and Stacie had celebrated by giving the same substance to her coworkers. Let's just say that they weren't very pleased with their neon green hair a few weeks later.

I can see why Aubrey would love her though; the woman is pretty and very smart – these two would already have gained you huge points in Aubrey's book. Oh, and the fact that she didn't leave like the others did the next morning after they'd hooked up the night before. In fact, she didn't leave at all.

6 years. One year shy of mine and Jesse's longevity and they're already engaged. I feel my heart rip a seam when his name flashes across my mind again. I have to get used to this.

"Becs! You're awake!"I am suddenly engulfed in arms and my face is stuffed between two huge breasts. She doesn't let go immediately and I can feel my lungs screaming for oxygen.

"Baby, you're suffocating her! Let her breathe!" Stacie pulls away quickly and shoots me the same apologetic look.

"Sorry, Becs. I was just so excited to see you! You were so knocked out last night." She looks around the kitchen before turning back to me, "I hope you didn't mind the mess; we're just going to clean up-"

"We?"

"Yeah, Chloe is still washing up in the guest bathroom back at ours. She'll be here in a minute." The crushing sound of glass catches her attention and she quickly joins Aubrey in Operation Beer Bottles. "You know, you should totally get a guest room at your place," she adds just as the front door flings open.

"Hello people! Chloe's here to save the day!"

"We're almost done." I spit out, smirking when I see the scowl on her face that she'd reserve me.

"Morning Ms Depressed. Nice of you to finally show your conscious face. Great way to express your thanks after I've lugged your body home from the office, by the way." She spits out the same way I did with her arms crossed.

"Hey I didn't ask you to-"

Aubrey claps her hands loudly, cutting us off. The couple casts worried glances at the both of us as the tension in the room thickens. Stacie slowly clears her throat, grabbing Chloe by her shoulders.

"Aubrey dear, why don't you clean up in here while I prepare breakfast over at our place?" She forces the redhead to turn towards the door, pushing her out of the apartment. Aubrey nods curtly and motions to her girlfriend to make a quick exit.

I round on my best friend with a glare the moment the door closes behind the brunette. She tries her hardest to ignore my presence as she continues to pick up the last few empty bottles. I sigh and walk over to her, grabbing the trash bag from her hand and silencing her protests with another glare. Oh yeah, I'm so good with glares.

"So you girls had a good time last night?" I ask, my voice strained as I lugged the filled bag towards the front door with effort.

She shakes her head, walking over to the couch and planting herself on her favorite end. She tilts her head over the back of the couch and beckons me over. I dust my hands and plops myself on the couch on my favorite end. Her hand reaches over to my face and I hiss when her thumb smoothes over the cut on my lower lip.

"Sorry." Her second apology since I've woken up. "When you passed out, you fell face first and somehow you managed to hit against the edge of some furniture."

"And Chloe found me and brought me home?"

The blonde nods, retrieving the first aid kit from underneath the coffee table. She shoots me a look and I nod, lifting my chin towards her to give her more access to my broken lip. I hiss again as the cleaning agent makes contact with the wound. Aubrey pauses for a second, hesitating if she should go on. I roll my eyes and motion for her to do so.

"She's not a bad person, you know?"

_I know. I work with her_.

"Just because she accidentally screwed up your first project together doesn't mean she's out to get you."

_Again, I know. I'm just pissed._  The voice fills my head again. Seriously, whose voice is this?

"Whatever."

My best friend sighs as she tosses the used cotton bud onto the coffee table. She packs the contents back into the kit and slides it back under the furniture. She then stands up and stretches out her hand towards me.

"Come on, you need to eat." I quirk my brow as I take hold of her hand. Aubrey pulls me up onto my feet and starts dragging me towards the door. She knows I'm not a morning eater, and that I'm not a big fan of any form of social interaction with the redhead.

"But she's there. That redhead is there."

"So what?"

"In case you didn't get my memo, I don't like her." Aubrey stops dead in her tracks and spins around to face me. "Okay, why do you look so angry?"

Aubrey scoffs and starts dragging me towards her apartment again. When we first moved to the city after graduation, we had wanted to stay together. Somehow, Jesse had tagged along and I ended up sharing an apartment with him. Aubrey, being Aubrey, didn't want to be a lightbulb so she rented a place with her coworker nearby. During a work party a few months later, she'd met Stacie. The two decided to get an apartment together and my neighbor, who was moving to Canada, was subletting his place. Of course the duo'd jumped at the opportunity.

The two of us stare at her apartment's door for what seems to be a thousand years. I can barely hear the wheels in her head turning while memories of Jesse and I replay in my own mind, complete with high definition graphics and full-surround stereo.  _Great time to upgrade your specs, brain._

"You know," her soft voice breaks my reverie and I look at her. Her face is blank as she continues to stare into the red door panel. "Chloe didn't actually  **find**  you passed out."

_Huh?_

"She was watching you the whole time when she saw you getting agitated on the phone and figured to call me. She's as worried for you as we are, Becs. She doesn't show it, but she is."

* * *

I sip on my coffee quietly while Aubrey and Stacie move to wash up at the sink. The brunette must have made some joke because Aubrey is now giggling like some high school girl. I miss laughing like that whenever Jesse makes a funny. I sigh.

"What's with the wistful look, Mitchell?" My eyes dart to meet Chloe's cerulean ones, narrowing when I see her looking back at me intently.

The breakfast wasn't bad; Chloe and I have stayed civil for most parts. I bet Aubrey is secretly proud of me to have made it through so far. I hear myself huff and I quickly return the attention to my coffee. The redhead's wearing that same look she's got back in the office yesterday. It makes me uncomfortable, almost erring on the side of uneasiness as a unknown warmth grows within me.

The sound of tap water flowing stops, breaking us from our reverie as the apartment plunges into silence in that instant. From the corner of my eye, I see Chloe snapping her head towards the sink just as the couple turns around to face us. Stacie is sporting her usual "I have a great idea!" look whilst Aubrey is simply looking at her girlfriend like some lovesick puppy.

"Girls, it's Saturday and we'd thought it'll be great if we can spend a day out in the sun. Want to hit the beach?"

The beach. The last place Jesse and I had hung out before that fateful Thursday. In fact, it was the day before that day when I'd took off from work to spend a sandy afternoon with both him and Benji. I can still vividly remember the boys laughing and splashing water at each other as they stood waist-deep in the sea. It was the first time that Jesse didn't bug me further when I rejected his offer to go have a dip in the salty waters. Ugh, I should have known.

"Becs?"I jerk my head away just as a shadow passes over my face. I blink and see Aubrey's hand waving in front of me just inches away from my nose.

"Are you joining us?"

I'm about to answer when we hear a knock on the door. It is quiet and hesitant. Aubrey and I exchange glances while Stacie hops over to the door with a smile tugging on her lips.

"Stacie has been expecting a parcel from her dad." Aubrey explains, her gaze fixed on the brunette. We watch as the smile fades from her face and is quickly replaced with a scowl. Stacie with a scowl?  _That's rare_.

"What are you doing here?" Even the cheeriness in her voice is gone; all that's left is cold and cutting. How I pity the one on the receiving end of that voice.

"I'm here to see Beca. I need to talk to her."

Chloe's eyes fly wide open while Aubrey stiffens in her seat. The two of them immediately spin around to look at me while I sit there feeling all numb. Shivers run up my spine again as the voice from the door persists.

"Please, Stacie. Let me talk to her. I know she's here. I can smell her coffee."

_Beca, don't._ Aubrey mouths with a pleading look. I dart my eyes at Chloe and see her eyes swim with worry.  _Even Chloe Beale is concerned for me?_  I shake my head and stand up. The screeching sound of my chair against the parquet floor stops the argument that is erupting at the door. Stacie whirls round and casts me the same worried look sported by Aubrey.

_Are you sure?_

"Hi Benji."

The tall man with curly brown hair and big eyes peers down at me. He smiles sheepishly and motions for me to join him in the hallway. I force a tight smile back at him, reaching back to close the door behind me as I step into the hallway. I cock my head towards the exit and start walking towards it. We remain quiet during our walk to the elevator, and the silence continues as we make our way out of the building towards the park. I hear him shuffling behind me as he struggles to catch up with me.

I'm always the faster walker in this friendship.

Upon reaching the park, I quickly find a spot and sit down on the bench. He doesn't wait for me to offer and sits himself down right next to me. I look straight ahead, ignoring his stares as he deliberates his opening line. Really, is there a need?

After what seems to be a thousand years, someone finally speaks up and breaks the silence. I'm surprised; that person is me.

"What you did is a dick move."

He winces, tearing his eyes away from me for the first time. I know because the burning sensation against the side of my head has faded away. I still can't bring myself to look directly at him. Not just yet.

"I know. I'm sorry and I want to explain. I've been meaning to but- but I lack the guts."

"Well, explain then. I'm here, aren't I?" I finally whirl around to face him, the coldness in my voice catching both of us off guard.

My heart breaks for the third time as I watch tears brim in his doleful eyes. His lips part and close, his eyes darting everywhere as he searches for words. I know the effect I have over him and I know the tone does little to help him gather his thoughts. I reach over and curl my fingers over his. I feel him freeze and the warmth in his hand slips away.

He's nervous, he's scared; he's terrified and out of wits.

He's not the Benji I know anymore.

I met Benjamin Applebaum at the start of high school. While Aubrey has skipped off to join the cheerleading squad where her elder sister Amber was captain, I've dragged myself to the school's AV club. It's the nearest thing I can get to producing music or have a go at playing with the sound dials. Benji was the president of the club at the time. He was friendly and warm towards me, teaching me everything I needed to know to control the soundboard and make public announcements in school.

I had an idea one day to make use of the PA system to make money – by letting people confess their love for 5 bucks a confession. The curly hair boy was supportive all the way, even letting me earn my first buck by confessing his love for Jason Gibson over the air. Of course, that earned him some bruises the moment he'd stepped out of the PA room but that didn't hurt our friendship one bit. I'd became closer to him after that incident, sharing all my thoughts and secrets with him and laughing together at other people's confessions. He was as serious as I am about my DJ ambitions; he gave great and discerning reviews to all my mixes which he listened without complaint.

He's like a brother to me - a brother that I've never had.

At one point Aubrey had even become jealous of our blossoming friendship, but then she came to know Benji and grew to love him like I did. We'd graduated high school with Aubrey and I going on to Barden whilst Benji headed to the Academy of Magic to become a certified illusionist.

It was his proudest moment and he went on world tours with his troupe. During that time, we only saw each other twice a year. It was my fifth year with Jesse when I'd formally introduced my boyfriend to him. A year later, Benji left the troupe to realize his next passion: crafting coffee. It was then that we started hanging out regularly again, the three of us: Benji, Jesse and me.

It didn't occur to me that letting the two of them have late night movie marathons would lead to something more. It never occur to me as something strange when the two of them started to have inside jokes of their own. It never occur to me as something out of place when Jesse shoots down my idea of hanging out alone together. "Let's bring along Benji," he'd said, picking up his cellphone and pressing down on his speed dial. It never occur to me why he'd even have Benji on his speed dial.

I guess I took all of these for granted and now it's biting right back at me.

I blink and look back up at the man. His puppy eyes stare back at me as his lips move rapidly. I can barely hear him as his words get lost in my ears. I feel hot tears streaming down my cheeks as I see my own reflection in his teary eyes. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe I'm going to break up with my own best friend, my brother.

I can't believe I can't have Benji in my life anymore.

"I'm so sorry, Becs." He pleads, cupping my hands in his. I try to tear my eyes away from his but I can't.

"Do you love him?" My voice barely a croak.

He worries his lower lip as he gives a curt nod, confirming my worst fear and yet releasing a sense of strange relief deep within.

"I do, Beca, I do. It's all I ever do since I'd met him."

I can't do it, I can't be here. I can't do this anymore.  _Too many conflicting emotions_. I inhale deeply through my mouth and hold the breath in.  _If only I could suffocate and die right here - right here with the pain and all these feels._

"I want you to know, Becs that I treasure our friendship a lot." His voice now a whisper as he leans in closer to me. My hands start to tremble and my heart rate picks up. I want to run away but my butt and feet stay rooted.

"Well, apparently you don't." He whirls around at the voice that boomed behind us. I don't have to turn to know to whom the voice belongs.  _It's that voice. Her voice?!_

"What you did is a dick move," she continues, walking closer to our bench. I can feel Benji starting to panic as he darts his eyes between the newcomer and me.

"Becs?" He pleads, not comfortable with having new company in this intimate setting – especially one that can possibly kill him.

"Leave, Benjamin or else I'll make you." Her voice now colder and chilling. Strange as it may be (not that stranger things haven't happened), I'm starting to worry for Benji's life.

"Becs," he tries again, tightening his hold over my hands. I close my eyes and shake my head.

"Go. You should leave. You've said your piece."

Benji slowly stands up, throwing me one last look and darting his eyes at the person behind us. He retrieves a small envelop with a bulge in the middle from his pocket and places it firmly in my hands. All this while, I kept my eyes ahead. I hear him shuffle on the spot, his boots against the gravel as he struggles for words again.

He always has a problem with words and expressing himself.

"I.. I guess that's it then." His voice still low and meek, shattering my heart.

This is the Benji I know, and this is goodbye. I hear him turn around and walk the other direction; his footsteps getting softer and softer as sand crumbles under the weight of his feet.

And then he's gone.

* * *

Aubrey and Stacie scramble up from their seats as I walk through the threshold into my own apartment. I feel their eyes on me as I settle down on the Eames chair next to the couch. I peer up at them and realize that Aubrey's eyes are red.

She has been crying.

"I'll get her a glass of water." Chloe says softly as she closes the door behind her. She casts Stacie a look who nods and follows the redhead to the kitchen.

I watch them till they disappear behind the tampered glass wall and turn to fix my gaze on the blonde in front of me. Her own hazel eyes are fixed on mine – red and sore. I smile weakly and reach out my arms. She returns the smile and quickly dives into my embrace. I bury my face into the nook of her neck as both of us break down into a crumpling pile.

It wasn't just me who has lost a friend.

Aubrey pulls away from me and fishes out her phone, cocking her head towards the device, "Stacie made me delete his number."

I frown and nod. "Well, that's a start." I say through the tears.

"She was so pissed because he ruined our plans for today." Aubrey adds, smiling fondly at the memory of her girlfriend. I chuckle along as I imagine the brunette pouting and stamping on the floor once Benji and I left the apartment.

"Wasn't up for the beach anyways. Not for a long time."

"I know, I'm sorry that we forgot."

I shake my head, retrieving Benji's envelop from my coat pocket. We stare at it for a while, not sure if I have any guts left over to open it.

"Let me do it."

Without warning, a hand reaches over and grabs the envelop out of my hand. I watch as Chloe tears it open and retrieves a piece of folded paper and a diamond-studded leather bracelet. She passes the jewelry to me and holds on to the note.

"What does it say?" Stacie appears next to her best friend with a glass of water and peers over her shoulder. Her eyes widen and she exchanges a look with the redhead.

"What does it say?" Aubrey repeats, annoyed that both of them are keeping the letter a suspense. Stacie bends down and whispers into the blonde's ear. I watch as the remaining color drains off her face. Aubrey turns to look at me; her eyes almost livid.

I play with the bracelet for a bit as I weigh my options. It's obviously something that I shouldn't read but I know I'd want to – just out of curiosity. I mean, I'm already at rock bottom, what else would matter? Can I be anymore hurt?

Again without warning, Chloe starts shredding the letter. I gasp as the ripping of the paper resonates around the apartment. She then holds out her hand expectantly. I stare at the hand for a while before lifting and placing the bracelet in her palm firmly. She flashes me a small smile and turns to toss the bracelet out of the window using all of her strength.

The bracelet flies through the air and disappears behind the trees, probably scaring the daylights out of Nibbles our neighborhood cat as the animal screeches and runs off into some trash cans in the nearby alley. I turn back to my friends and see them biting their lips. Yeah, that cat is one hilarious, clumsy ball of fur.

"You're a scary woman, Beale. You've scared both Benji and Nibbles away." I quip, standing up to walk to the kitchen. Aubrey barks out a laugh while Stacie nudges her best friend who simply rolls her eyes.

"Whatever, Mitchell."

"What are you doing?" Aubrey asks, her laughter dies off as her voice laced thick with concern again. I shrug, holding out a crate of Brothers Toffee Apple cider. Stacie's eyes widen with glee at the sight of the bottles. Ciders are her favorite.

"I missed the party last night, figured that we should make up for it. You know, have a great start to Beca's Epic recovery from her breakups."

Chloe chuckles and rolls her eyes, picking up a bottle from the crate. She pops the cap with her teeth and raises the bottle up high.

"Well then, here's to you, Mitchell."

"To Beca!"

"And to all the women in the world who have got their hearts trampled by asshats!"

I smile, dipping my head back and letting the cold alcohol flow down my throat. I watch as Chloe laughs at something Stacie said; my breath hitches when she turns to look in my direction, smacking her lips playfully before taking another sip from her bottle.

"Thank you. Really, I meant it." I raise my bottle towards her and she raises hers in kind.

"You're always welcome, Beca."


	3. back to work

_Knock knock._

My eyes flit open as the soft thumping on the door continues.  _What a persistent fellow... at two in the morning?_  I sigh and clammer up from the Eames chair, staggering my way towards the door and pulling on my glasses. I let out a yelp when I almost trip over a snoozing Stacie. The brunette grunts a little as she turns the other way, resuming her sleep on the carpet.

_Knock knock_

"Coming," I whisper to no one, clasping the door knob and turning it as quietly as I can. I freeze when the door opens to reveal the handsome man before me.

Gosh I wish he's not so cute.

"Hey," he greets, eyes dazed and clouded.  _He drank. Why?_

I nod a response, scrunching my nose when I catch a whiff of his alcohol-clad breath.

"I'm here to take my stuff."

I open my mouth to speak but a voice cuts me right off. "Go look in the bins downstairs."

Both Jesse and I stare mouth-open at the redhead standing next to me. She has swung open the door wider, letting the heat from the radiator escape into the freezing corridor. I shiver with cold as I watch Chloe take on the drunk that is Jesse Swanson.

"The what?"

"Yeah, we threw them away. Part of the "getting rid of evil boyfriend" ritual. Find them downstairs and you'll be good. Now, scoot." She waves her hand at him dismissively, rolling her eyes when he stays rooted on the spot. Man it's really getting cold in here.

Jesse looks disgruntled; his eyebrows knitted together and his usual goofy look is gone from his face. He narrows his eyes at the redhead and, in a sweeping motion, pushes her backwards further into the apartment as he sidesteps both of us to enter. I take a step back to avoid his stinking body, tripping over a sleeping Stacie and fall unto her with an oomph. Our heavy movements have awoken the kraken that is Aubrey Posen who has passed out earlier on the couch. The blonde jerks open her eyes and drowsily surveys her surroundings:

Stacie and I are tangled in a mess of limbs as we try to get up from the floor; Chloe has her hands locked onto Jesse's shirt collar, her eyes in killer mode while Jesse tries his best to yank her grip off.

The latter is enough to make Aubrey shoot up from her spray-eagle position, rush towards the door and send Jesse flying backwards with a punch. He yelps as he crashes onto the hallway.

"What are you doing to my friends, you jerk ass?!" She screams, shaking her wrist as it starts to bruise and swell.

"Hey relax, Aubrey! I'm just here to collect my stuff!" The brunette man holds on to the door jamb as he struggles to stand up. His hand reaches up to touch his nose, wincing as blood gushes out from the nostrils. "Look what you've done!"

"I've already told you: your stuff is downstairs by the bins. If you need directions I can draw you a map." Chloe levels him with a glare, crossing her arms as she steps up next to Aubrey.

Jesse darts his eyes between the two before fixing them on me. Stacie and I have somehow managed to separate ourselves; she is instantly standing next to Aubrey examining her hand while I continue seated on the floor watching the scene unfold. His breathing labored as he wipes his bleeding nose on the back of his sleeve.

"Is that true, Becs? You've... You've thrown away my stuff?" He pushes past the 3 women and squats down in front of me. His bloody hands cupping my own as he pores into my eyes.

"I- I have no more need for them."

"Really? I thought you always like that old gym shirt of mine."

I point at Chloe whose jaw drops at the information Jesse's just given. She quickly pulls the shirt up above her head and flings it into my ex's face, crossing her arms to cover, um, to cover... _Woah, that's some nice abs she's got there._

I shake the image off my head as I scramble to pick up the shirt from the floor. "Here you go, the final item that belongs to you that is somehow still in the house. Chloe's right; I threw away your stuff last night after... After Benji's left."

"Benji was here?" His voice softer now as he grips onto the shirt. His knees bent as he shifts from his squatting position – now he's kneeling. He's kneeling? Is he- oh my gosh.

"Beca, I know what I did was terrible. I'm a jerk – a big time jerk but will you forgive me? I don't want us to end this badly. Please forgive me."

_Yes, yes, yes I want to forgive you! I want us to be back together again!_  The voice in my head screams. I purse my lips as my eyes roam his bleeding face, down his neck to the hands that are cupping mine.  _Wait, hold the phone. That ring. Did we get rings together? No, we didn'-_

"No." He must have seen me notice the ring when he quickly pulls his hands back, hiding them behind his back.

My breathing now ragged as I labor to keep the bile down. I remember those rings; Benji, Jesse and I saw them one day when we passed by the jewelry shop. I have gushed at some other diamond ring and have dropped gigantic hints at Jesse who has somehow ignored me while he and Benji ogled at this pair of  _couple rings_. They are intricate, I must admit – silver bands with purple gemstones decorated all over in a haphazard way.

And now he's wearing one of them.  _Wait, wasn't Benji wearing one just like that yester- Oh._

I stare at him for moment before looking around for something.  _Anything_. I find a empty glass on the coffee table and make a grab for it. His eyes widen as I rise to stand before him, my knuckle white as I grip onto the glass.

"Please? I'm sorry." He persists, flashing his puppy eyes.

Audible gasps resonate across the room as the glass lands on the parquet flooring. The impact splits the glass into half before it shatters into a million unfixable pieces. I ignore his yelps as bits of the shards ricochet into his exposed arm.

I feel my whole body shake as I point at the mess right next to him.

"If- If these glass shards tell me right now that they'd forgive me, then I'll accept your apology and forgive you."

"Becs..."

"No, you get out from my apartment right no-"

"But we had so much good memories together-"

"Stop. You're making me nauseated. Leave. Right now!" I scream, sending him scampering off towards the door and out of the apartment.

I wheel around to see three women staring back at me with their jaws hanging out.

"Let's just go back to sleep. I'm tired." I hear myself whisper as I lay back down on the Eames chair, closing my eyes to escape the scene before me.

* * *

"Ms Dean?"

I push my glasses up my nose and stare at the white folder on the table. The words on its sticker stare right back at me, as if mocking me.

"Mhmm." She walks around spraying water on her beloved potted cactuses.

"You do know that I've just fallen out of love, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"And you want me to take on a wedding project?"

"Why not? Falling out of love doesn't mean you stop working," she pauses, wheeling around to face me. "Unless you want to quit?"

"No, no, no," I lick my lips as I put on my weakest voice. "It's just that, given my current emotional state-"

"Is the bridegroom your partner?"

I dart my eyes down at the picture of a man clipped to the folder. He does look quite charming... and old.

"No, he's not. But right now I'm just feeling so horrible and faithless and broken; what if I actually translate all these emotions and negative energies into their wedding?"

Ms Dean replaces the spray bottle into the cabinet and sits down opposite me on the couch. She throws me a glance before turning her attention to her french press, pushing the plunger down to the bottom and shaking the glass pot. She quirks an eyebrow at me and I nod, holding out my own mug and watch her pour the freshly brewed coffee into the ceramic container.

"Well, you don't have to worry if that happens," she says nonchalantly, sipping on the hot liquid.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I have a good friend who works at the funeral parlor. I'll just have you shipped over to him once that wedding's over."

I gulp, sipping on my coffee quietly.  _Okay, so that pity thing doesn't work._

"You'll work on this with Chloe." My shoulders slump and I breathe out in disbelief.

Oh no.

I follow Ms Dean out of her office as she makes her way over to Chloe's desk. The redhead looks up with a smile but it falters the minute her eyes land on me. She nods a greeting at Ms Dean and quickly turns off her monitor. Everyone does that whenever Ms Dean walks around the office. Can't have her know that we're all watching sitcoms and dramas on the job, can we?

Okay, she does know but she keeps an eye closed so long as we finish our projects satisfactorily and rake in the bacon. Money. Bread. Whichever.

"Hi Ms Dean," the redhead chirps, ignoring my presence.

"Chloe, you shall work on this project with Beca. I want to see a proposal on my desk by the end of the week." Our boss drops the folder on her desk and promptly saunters away towards Fat Amy and Bumper who are in one of the meeting rooms having a discussion with a client.

Chloe's face mirrors that of mine when Ms Dean announced our partnership earlier. She quickly flips through the folder and peruses its contents. Her eyes widen when she realizes it's a wedding project and she jerks her eyes up at me.

"She wants you to do this?"

I throw my hands up in the air with defeat, nodding as I pick up her desk phone to dial the client's number.

"Let's just get this over and done with."

* * *

"Mitchell."

I cock an eyebrow at the redhead as she rolls her eyes without looking at me.

"Can you move to sit opposite me?"

"Why?"

"Your cologne is too overwhelming for me."

"Cologne? This is- Whatever." I huff as I move to accede to her request.

For the next five minutes, I look around the cafe as we await the arrival of our client. They've requested to meet in this high society eating place with ridiculously expensive lunch sets and high teas. Chloe is bobbing her head to the music playing in her iPod while I look over the client's file again. 40 year-old business owner marrying a 30 year-old ex air stewardess. Doesn't say how they'd want their wedding to be like with specific details, only states the intended time and...

"They having their wedding on Jesse's and mine's anniversary." I whisper to no one in particular. Chloe shifts in her seat and scoots closer to me to take a closer look at the file. I quirk my eyebrow as I dart my eyes between her and her bulky headphones.

"What?"

"Nothing. I thought you're listening to your music."

"Oh, I didn't have them too loud..." She flushes and quickly removes the audio accessory, tossing it into her bag.

I point at the iPod lying on the couch next to her bag, "You didn't even plug in your headphones. Are you fake-listening to music?"

"Fine, I was."

"What- Why?"

"Because- They're here."

I whip around just in time to see a couple walk through the glass doors held open by one of the stewards. The woman is dressed in a flesh-colored, body-hugging dress; her face thick with make up and wearing a megawatt smile. The man himself is clean-shaven and tanned, sporting a pompadour whilst dressed in a royal blue suit that shows off his time well spent in the gym. They're a handsome couple, I must say.

Chloe nudges me as she rises to greet the approaching couple. I stand up, straightening my own dress and wishing I'd worn something nicer instead. Somehow, this couple is making me nervous. I can feel my pits getting wetter with perspiration.

Okay, Becs. Take it easy. You've done such projects before.  _Just not with this kind of people_.

"Good evening Mr Lautner and Ms Swift." Chloe extends her hand towards the couple, smiling sweetly as she gives them a hearty handshake.

"Morning." The man greets, motioning for his fiancee to sit next to him.

"I'm Chloe Beale and this is my partner, Beca Mitchell-"

"Oh, you two are together?" Ms Swift grins and tugs at her fiance's arm, "Look, Jon. I told you they're a couple." She turns right back to us, not realizing the shock look we have on our faces, "you two look so cute together!"

I titter uneasily, throwing a quick look at Chloe. "Ha, that's a- that's a good one, Ms Swift but uh-"

"Why don't we go through the proposal now,  **shall we**?" Chloe asks me through gritted teeth, shooting me a look that says "Shut up now, don't correct her or I'll end you."

"What's a good one?" Ms Swift asks, looking up from her cup of honey Earl Grey. Mr Lautner places his hand on her knee and shakes his head.

"I think they meant the  **proposal**  that you've made over to phone to CR." He hitches his head towards the white folder lying on the table whilst giving both of us an uneasy look.

"Right! That's right. Why don't you elaborate on the details, Ms Swift? I see here that you said you wanted something out of the norm?" The redhead holds up her iPad, smiling enthusiastically at the couple seated opposite us.  _She did?_

Ms Swift seems to have bought their story because she has now launched into a very elaborate explanation of how she'd wanted her wedding to be. We first start off with her likes and dislikes. She can't take any form of shell fish ("I'll get rash even by looking at them!"), she wants all alcohol to be imported from Bordeaux and Champagne, France; and she wants the wedding to take place where she can see both the ocean and the mountains.

I see Chloe raise her eyebrows as Ms Swift lists off Iceland as a possible wedding destination.

"Oh, we can go glacier hiking! Isn't that fun, Jonny? Our wedding's going to be epic!"

I smile as I note down her request in my iPad. I've attended many weddings throughout the three years in this company and everyone wants their own epic wedding. There's a pair of childhood sweethearts who'd requested to have their wedding done back in their elementary school with all the guests dressed in their school uniforms – no matter what size and shape they're sporting now; there's also a couple who wanted to marry in the jungle  _a la_  Tarzan and Jane style, complete with a bridal suit made of animal skins. I remember having to distribute dozens of insect repellents to the guests during the wedding. It was a good laugh seeing their naked legs swollen with mosquito bites at the end of the event.

If one asks me what sort of wedding I'd want, I would smile and say, "Any sort would do, so long as he is right there with me."  _But he's not._

"Uh, you mean for your honeymoon?" I jolt as Chloe's voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Oh no, I mean for the wedding reception. Is there a problem?"

"Yeah," I cut in, shooting Chloe a look before she sabotages our project with another sarcastic remark. "It will be expensive to fly your wedding guests there and back, and-"

"Oh, don't worry. Jonny here owns a private jet company. We can afford it." She beams, grabbing her fiance's hand. Mr Lautner flashes a smile and kisses the back of her hand.

"Okay, honey. Do whatever you want."

The tall man then rises up from his seat, straightening out the front of his jacket and beckoning one of the stewards over. "I'm sorry I've got to head back to office; I'll see you for dinner tonight, baby. Meanwhile, this," he motions to the dessert spread on the table, "will be on me. Tommy, remember to put this on my tab."

Ms Swift wipes away a drop of tear from her eye as she watches her fiance leave the cafe. Chloe and I exchange glances before turning back to our client with our most professional smiles.

"So, Iceland?" the redhead quips, breaking the awkward silence that has descended on the three of us.

Ms Swift nods, turning her head so that she's facing the window instead of us.

"Uh, Ms Swift?"

"Yeah, Iceland, whatever. Make sure you guys put in fireworks as well. I want loads of fireworks – during the march in, during our march out as a couple, and during the dinner."

I roll my eyes as I note down her requests. This wedding is going to cost a bomb. Oh wait, her husband is a multimillionaire - how  **can**  I forget? I look up from my thoughts when I hear Chloe calling my name. Repeatedly.

"What?"

"Mitchell, what are you doing?"

I tilt my head towards my iPad and frown. "Isn't it obvious I'm typing down her- where is she?"

Chloe sighs as she packs up her stuff. "She has left a couple minutes ago. Thanks for dozing off and leaving me here alone with her."

"Woah, what's with the snapping? Isn't she a nice lady?"

The redhead rolls her eyes as she gets up from her seat, slugging her satchel over her head. "Yeah, a nice and  **demanding**  lady. She wanted the _Aurora Borealis_ to flash across the sky during their vows!"

No way.

"Er, you did let her know we can't do that right?"

Chloe stops in her tracks and whirls around to face me with a very angry face.

"Well, I  **tried** , but  **someone**  said yeah let's do that!"

"Noooo..."

"Oh yes, you did. Thanks for promising her the northern lights when her wedding is going to be held in the open in the dead of summer. Seriously," Chloe sits back down on the couch with such force, my body actually jumps a little off the cushy surface. She continues to glare at me as she studies my drool-covered face.

"You should see a sleep doctor."

"No, why is everyone asking me to do that?"

"Well, Aubrey said you have some micro sleep problem – that's one. And two, you talk in your sleep. Do you know how much rubbish I have to listen that night? Aubrey and Stacie obviously know about your problem because they had earplugs ready but I didn't. Thanks to you, and that crazy ass jerk you have for an ex boyfriend, I couldn't sleep the entire night. I was so tired that I had to cancel my date the next day. If I get left on the shelf, it'll be all your fau-" she raises her hand high, palm all ready to strike down across my face.

I squirm and quickly cover my head, looking at her as fear pulsated through my blood. Man, she's scary.

"-What are you doing?"

"You're going to slap me, aren't you?"

The redhead swats a fly away while keeping her cerulean eyes fixed me. She smirks and picks up her tea. I let go of a breath that I've held since she started her tirade, relieved to know I'm not going to be hurt in any way. A realization dawns upon me and I choke on my own tea.

"Wait, you said I've said some rubbish during my sleep that night. What did I say?"

She blushes and continues sipping on her tea. I raise my eyebrows and set my own teacup on the table.

"Spill."

"Well, you said some things about Jesse... Some things about Benji..."

"And...?"

"Some weird things about um... Me."

"What?"

"Look, here's a card. Make an appointment with Dr Brun asap. I have to go clean up the mess you made with Ms Swift. Northern lights in summer – what a joke!" She downs her tea in a fluster and rushes out of the cafe.

_What did I say?_


	4. of flashbacks and secrets

"Hey, Aub. Need to check with you on something," I peer down at the card that Chloe's passed me the other time - my phone's tucked snugly between my neck and shoulder. "See, you guys keep throwing that 'go see a sleep doctor' thing around and I just thought that, okay I should maybe go see one so... Chloe gave me this card and it's dog-eared and the ink's all faded. Do you think you.."

"Oh, you want Dr Burke's contact?"

"It- It's Dr Burke?"

"Yeah, something's wrong?"

"No, nothing. Just that Chloe mentioned that it's Dr Brun or someone else. Maybe I heard wrong or-"

"Oh Dr Brun! Yeah, that's her doctor but he doesn't deal with sleep problems."

"Oh."

"Yeah, maybe she gave you the wrong card. Dr Burke is great, you know? Stacie went to see her and she can now sleep soundly after we had-"

" **Okay** TMI, my friend!" My voice a little louder than usual, hoping to drown out the rest of her sentence. I roll my eyes when giggles emit from the receiver.

"Sorry! A little carried away,"  _A little?_  "We had our anniversary last night and-"

"Just give me the number, Posen."

I quickly scribble down the number with my free hand when my phone beeps with an incoming call. "Okay, Aub. Thank you so much. I've a second line coming in so I'll talk to you later, bye bye."

"Hey, it's me."

"Um, who?"

"Tsk, it's Chloe. I need to clarify something with you regarding the Swift/Lautner project."

I listen as the redhead details her talk with Ms Swift regarding the Northern Lights and how relieved she is that our client has finally given up on that "absurd idea". I feel the corners of my lips curl upwards as she slowly changes the topic to her favorite food and how she adores Jamie Oliver and his 15 minutes cooking tips.

She does sound cute when she talks like that.  _Wait, what?_

"Yeah and you can like throw those asparagus wrapped with bacon stripes into the pan and let it sear for like a minute and tadaa! It's done! All under 15-"

"Uh, Chloe? Sorry. So we're done with uh, Ms Swift?" My interruption seems to have derailed her thoughts as silence lingers in our conversation beyond a comfortable level. I can hear her breathing change and speed up as she seems to struggle with words to say.

"Right, we um, we- we are. So, I'll see you tomorrow for work?" Yeah, she does seem flustered for some reason. Oh well, she's a weirdo.

"Yeah, after I return from the clinic - hopefully. I actually gotta hang up to call them for an appointment.." my voice trails off. Okay, it's that silence again. Funny how these pockets of silence seem to appear more frequently between us ever since... Actually I couldn't remember when. Was it before or after I spotted her smearing lipstick on Fat Amy's cup in the pantry?

"Mitchell?"

"Yeah."

"Did you fall asleep again?"

"No... I'm just thinking. In silence."

"Right."

"No, really. Like who exactly is Dr Brun and why do you have to see him?"

I hear the phone drop at the other end of the receiver and arch my eyebrows. Seriously, what's with this redhead? That Ms Swift must have gotten to her bad.

"Ha! Funny. I ah, I'll see you tomorrow then! And uh, do pass me the card back, please? I- Me- I mean my mom needs it."

I nod to myself and quickly bid my goodbyes; my finger hovering over the red button when I hear an audible smack from the other end. It sounds like a palm meeting the surface of a forehead.

Yeah, that redhead's definitely a weirdo.

* * *

The clock ticks heavily and its tocks resonate loudly across the room. An intricate system of carved wooden panels and yellowed wallpaper lined the walls, flanked by dusty carpets and a painted ceiling. I look up and see a baby angel staring down at me with a harp in his... No, her.. Okay I can't tell. It's 17 minutes past the schedule and Dr Burke hasn't showed up.

My eyes pan across the rest of the room in which I stand waiting; there is a large desk covered with heaps of papers that seem to be untouched for decades – judging by the inch-deep layer of dust reflecting in the sunlight. There are also some musty-looking cabinets filled with very thick books, some brown jars with tube-like objects suspended in some clear liquid, and... A live-like skeleton with eyeballs. Instead of a skull with normal empty eye sockets, this set of bones has eyeballs.

Aubrey Posen has sent me to Frankenstein. Or Dr. Hyde.

"Hi, you must be Beca Mitchell." I jolt, feeling my soul rise above my skin in that instant before snapping back into my body and leaving my hairs on end.  _I'm going to kill that blonde woman._

I slowly turn around and feel my jaw drop at the beautiful redhead standing in the doorway. Is it me or are redheads extra attractive these days?  _Wait, what?_ I shake my head to rid the voice as I move forward to shake the doctor's outstretched hand. Her grip is firm and her smile dazzling. She can't be older than 30.

"You look young." I blurt out.

Dr Burke laughs and motions for me to sit down on the chair next to me.  _There is a chair?_

"Well, you look younger." She jokes, leaning and half sitting against the desk in front of me. She crosses her arms and studies my face for a moment. I can feel her eyes roam across my face and burn into my own; the sides of my neck heat up under the scrutiny and I quickly clear my throat. Dr Burke's roaming eyes snap right back to mine and she smirks.

"Mhmm. So," the tall redhead retrieves a clipboard from behind her, grabbing a pen that is tucked behind her ear and taps it against what seems to be a report.

"It says here that you have some problem sleeping?"

"Er, actually it's not so much of me having a problem to sleep but more of when I sleep, I cause problems for people who want to sleep." I gesture with my hands, hoping that  **that** would clarify the handy situation I have here.

Dr Burke narrows her eyes at me and nods slowly. Okay, she's not nodding; she just merely lowered her head to look at me through those half-crescent glasses.

"Yeah, Aubrey told me that you talk in your sleep and that you also have issues with micro-sleeping."

I nod, rubbing my sweaty palms against my denim-clad thighs. Dr Burke purses her lips and scribbles something onto the clipboard. She then motions for me to lie down on the recliner whilst she takes a seat on the chair where I've been seated earlier.

"Okay Beca. Here's what we'll do in our first session-"

"First session?" My eyebrows have probably risen above my hairline as I shoot up in my seat. "Exactly how serious is this sleep problem that I have to come back here beyond a first session?"

The doctor chuckles as she gently lies me down again, patting and rubbing my right shoulder in a soothing manner.

"Don't worry. I promise there'll be no needles," I scrunch my nose at the idea of injection, eliciting a giggle from the redhead, "and no funny business – that skeleton is just a memorabilia from my husband when he went to a doctors' conference a couple years ago," she adds, clearly noticing my eyes darting every few seconds to the display cabinet behind her. I find myself finally relaxing at her words as I lean back fully into the tan recliner.

"There. Look at you all cute snuggling in the recliner." I frown, not used to having people calling me cute, and definitely not used to people using that cooing voice on me. "So tell me, Beca: before this, did anyone else tell you about your micro sleep? Did you ever fall asleep during lectures that are not boring, or when you drive or doing anything routine?"

My face scrunches up as I try to recall.

"Nope, or maybe I did but I don't always notice these. I mean, during high school and sometimes in college, people did have to call me a few times to get my attention. And I always sleep in lectures."

"With your eyes open?"

"Yeah! How did you know?"

"Okay," she says, taking a longer moment to scribble onto the board this time. I worry my lower lip as I try to ignore the squeaking sound made by her pencil against the rough white paper.

"Right, now about your sleep-talking. Did the same thing happen before?" I shake my head, having nothing from my memory to offer. She frowns, tapping the end of her pencil against her lips. I think Chloe has lips like those too...

_Okay, what's up with you Mitchell?_

"Alright. Have you been through anything traumatic in the past few months?"

"Er... I just ended a 7 year relationship."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, my dear..."

"Don't worry about it. He's gay so..." She arches her eyebrow and scribbles another note down onto the clipboard.

"And that's how recent?"

"Um, I only just found out that he likes men? So-"

"No, I mean your talking during sleep thing."

"Oh. Just a few days ago, actually."

"Okay, what about things happening before that? Anything unusual?" The doctor pushes, leaning in and resting her elbows on her knees as her ocean blue eyes bore into mine.

_I wonder who else has eyes that blue._

I am about to shake my head again when a memory strikes me.

* * *

_It was fall last year. Aubrey, Stacie and I had decided to abandon the boys to head to the swimming complex for some aqua aerobics that the blonde has signed up for us. After a strenuous workout chest-deep in the pool, I gave up and asked to leave the class._

_Even getting out using the pool ladder proved to be a challenge._

_I panted heavily as I made my way to the changing room. The layout of the room is such that the showers are separated from the dry changing area with a wall in the middle. Placing my shower caddy down on the bench, I took a quick glance around and realized that all the showers were taken up. A breeze suddenly came in from outside and I shivered. Deciding that it was safe and that everyone else was preoccupied with their own showers, I turned to face the corner of the wall and quickly peeled off the soaked bathing suit from my body before patting down with a dry towel. The sound of a shower curtain being pulled open made me spin around in my heels._

_Out of the corner of my eyes, I spied a shadow disappearing into the dry changing area. Yes! I quickly made my way into the vacated shower cubicle and pulled the curtain behind me. I sighed with deep relief as heated water splashed generously against my skin, soothing my aching muscles. Man, that workout has surely shed the mass off me._

_I was so engrossed in relieving my sore arms that I did not notice the curtains being pulled back. I also didn't notice half a body stepping into the cubicle behind me until someone screamed into my ear._

" _Hey, you're in my showe- Oh my gosh!"_

_I whipped around and froze, suds dripping off my hair as I stared jaw-dropped into those pair of bright cerulean eyes._

" _Oh. My. Gosh."_

* * *

I blush and quickly shake my head, denying the existence of that memory - denying those pair of blue eyes that still haunts me at night. Dr Burke narrows her eyes again, sighing as she scribbles yet another illegible paragraph onto her clipboard. After a few moments of silence, she finally speaks up.

"Okay Beca, I'm going to prescribe you some pills for your micro-sleep. Now, I'd need your full cooperation if you really want complete recovery from this condition. I won't call it an illness per se, but it can be quite an inconvenient – and may I add, dangerous condition especially when you're operating machines or driving a car."

I nod obediently, sitting upright in the recliner and shifting so that I can face my doctor squarely. She tears off a blue slip of paper and hands it over to me.

"As for the sleep-talking, I'd need you to come back again. Now, I want you to do a dream journal during this period from now till our next appointment. Record down your dreams if you can remember any during this time in as much details as you could. You don't have to share all of them but I want you to have a rough idea of what may be happening in your life that is causing you some sort of distress."

I nod again as I clasp the blue slip of paper tightly in my fist. I quietly thank the doctor and move to exit the room.

* * *

The office is abuzz with activities as I stroll through the threshold. Fat Amy is hollering into the phone and gesticulating wildly with her free hand; Luke is flirting with our new intern – a skinny blonde girl with one of the sweetest smiles named Ashley; Bumper and Unicycle are having an arm wrestling competition, and from what I'd heard as I walk past the two near the reception, the reward is a huge sandwich filled with Swedish meatballs, honey mustard and fried eggs.

Boys.

I roll my eyes at them as I continue my walk towards my desk, passing by the window sill on which Lilly is perched. She is holding a pair of binoculars in her hands as she quietly observes the activities going on in the office opposite us. She turns around just as I walk past; I see her lips parting and morphing to form shapes but I can't hear a thing. Smiling and nodding as if I'd heard and understood her, I leave the office maverick with her spy gadget as I round the corner to my seat, plopping down heavily on the chair and switching on my computer.

_You have one new message in your inbox._

I frown when I realize who the sender is and I roll my chair to the side so that I'm facing my neighbor seated opposite me. Chloe is already there in the same sitting position as I am. Her eyes trained on mine as she awaits my response. I nod solemnly and rises up from my seat with deliberate effort.

"Ms Dean."

"Oh hi girls. What's up?" Our hippy boss has her hair dyed blue and french-braided today; her eyes twinkling with a playful glint as she beckons us to take a seat opposite her across her desk.

"It's Ms Swift. She uh, she has certain demands for her wedding and we both find it tricky to accede to her requests." Ms Dean arches her eyebrows at us as she turns to her computer to find the email sent by the client.

"I see. An extremely rude email regarding her wish to have artificial Northern Lights for her wedding march in." We nod, stealing glances at each other for support as we await our boss' advice.

In the email, Ms Swift has mocked Chloe's professionalism and our company's integrity following the redhead's succinct explanation of the technical difficulties in achieving the natural phenomenon in broad daylight. She has manipulated her sentences to victimize herself whilst blaming the entire faux pas on my partner. Whatever she'd said is total opposite from what the redhead herself has happily reported to me yesterday.

No wonder Chloe is so upset.

"Ms Dean?" Chloe asks quietly, her eyes downcast as she worries her lower lip with anxiety.

I frown; my eyebrows knitted together and I probably look like Bert from Sesame Street. I've never seen the redhead like this – so unsure, so scared and fearful. Her hands are wrung together and she keeps fidgeting in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs trying to find a comfortable position.

The blue-haired woman slowly rises from her chair; her eyes steeled on Chloe as she rounds the table to stand near the redhead. Chloe keeps her head bowed but lifts her eyes to meet Ms Dean's. The corners of her lips curl upwards slowly to match that of our boss' own warm smile.

It's going to be okay.

I find myself smiling as I watch the two women hug each other. Ms Dean's arms are wrapped around the redhead's shoulders and her hand runs up and down the length of her back to comfort the younger woman. I can't make out what she's saying, but our boss is now whispering something into the redhead's ear. Chloe visibly relaxes; her shoulders slump a little, giving up its previously tensed position as she leans into those welcoming arms.

After a few moments of awkward silence Chloe finally breaks away from the embrace, lifting her hands to wipe away the tears collected at the corners of her eyes. She stands up, gives Ms Dean a curt nod and promptly walks out of the office. I watch her leave, totally forgetting the presence of my salary-giver who is standing behind me.

"Beca." I wheel around, surprised at being addressed. "I'm taking Chloe off the case for the rest of the week. You'll take charge from now till she rejoins you next Monday."

"What, is she leaving or, or, did she abandon the project or-"

"I'm just giving her a break. Meanwhile, I want you to call Ms Swift to explain again and see if there're other viable options for us to play around with."

I nod, standing up like Chloe did and turning to leave her office when I spot something white on the chair that Chloe's just sat on. I dart my eyes to see Ms Dean returning to her seat and quickly make to grab the white plastic container, pocketing it just as Ms Dean settles into her chair.

"Beca."

"Yes?" I wheel around but my hand is still clasped around the silver door knob.

"Don't go yet, have a seat." I obey, pulling the chair back and planting myself down. "How are things with you?"

I shrug, shifting my shoulders as I weigh my own emotions on the matter. After Jesse's stunt that night, all I can feel is anger and betrayal. Of course there are still remnants of sadness and reluctance – it is after all a 7 years affair, but then Aubrey and Stacie finally revealed what the letter has stated and all the respect and love I have had for Benji flew out the window.

Every time I think about the two men together and that kiss – that stupid kiss that I had the most  **fortunate**  timing to walk on in, makes the bile rise up in my gut. My old man has called me from his office back at Barden, offering his condolences on the dead thing that is Jesse's and mine's relationship.

"Don't worry, baby B," his kind voice travelled through the receiver, "as cliche as it may be, time will definitely heal everything."

"Really?" My voice cracked and weak.

I could hear him nodding as a soft chuckle sounded at the other end, "Yes dear. Although I can't tell you exactly how long this will take, but you'll be better and stronger than you ever were."

I remember myself smiling along to the rest of the conversation, hiding my tears and tucking them back as I listened to him ramble on about his research work – his own effort to take things off my mind. What he didn't know (and I didn't say) was how much I'd kill for someone – anyone to tell me the exact schedule to a breakup like this; how much longer my heart is going to stay broken,

and unfixable.

"Beca?"

"I'm okay. I'm doing better, really."

"That's good to hear," Ms Dean leans back into her seat, stirring her coffee intently. She then dips her head to sip on the brown liquid – her eyes still fixed on me.

After a few moments of silence, she finally speaks up again, waving her hand dismissively, "Alright, you can go back to your work." I nod and stands up, turning around to head back to my seat when her voice booms again.

"You know it's perfectly fine for you to fall in love again, don't you?"

I flash her one last smile as I close the door behind me.

* * *

Afinitor. I read and reread the word on the white label sticker.

Chloe has already left the office, citing discomfort as reason for her early dismissal from the day's work. I'm about to unscrew the white container that I'd found when someone taps me lightly on the shoulder.

"Hey Becs, what's that you're looking at?" Fat Amy asks, pulling up an empty chair and sitting down next to me. She flashes me her infamous cheshire grin as her eyes duck down to the label, widening at the sight of the words. Her smile falters and she looks back up at me in pure shock.

"Are you alright?" She asks again – her voice now more serious and full of concern.

I take a quick glance at the container in my hand before returning my attention to the blonde woman in front of me. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you look so weird?"

"Are you sick?"

I shake my head, tossing the container into my bag and turning my chair so that I'm facing her squarely. Fat Amy frowns as she fixes her eyes on the white cap that peeks out from my bag.

"That, I've seen that before."

Somehow, my heart drops at her words. She's seen them before? But these are obviously Chloe's. Does this mean that she's seen her taking them before?

"My aunt's taking them."

Oh.

"What are they for?"

"Oh, they're for-" the blare from my phone cuts the blonde off. She closes her mouth and pouts at the ringing device. I flash her an apologetic smile and quickly pick up the annoying thing.

"Hello, Beca Mitchell speaking." I feel my mouth hangs open when Mr Lautner's voice appears at the end of the receiver. "Okay, don't worry – we understand. So you want us to go down to the place where you'd want the wedding to be? Yeah, sure we can do that. When do you- Oh okay. My partner's currently on leave so it'll only be... Right, that's right. Okay, I'll see you then. Bye."

I sigh as I toss the phone into my bag, looking up to find Fat Amy gone. In fact, I'm the only one left in the whole damned loft. Oh well, time for those funny cat videos again.

* * *

"I told you, I remember putting it in my bag before I left the office!" Chloe's panicked voice pierces through the air as I push open the door to Aubrey's apartment. Both Stacie and the redhead are rummaging the couches, flinging throw pillows and blankets behind them as they plough through the sitting area.

No one has noticed my grand entrance. I should have it with fanfare next time.

"Don't worry, Chlo. We'll just ask Dr Brun for another prescription. It's almost time for you to go anyway. Two weeks, right?"

Chloe nods impatiently, placing her hands on her hips as she surveys the area in front of her again. "Yeah, but I'll need those pills to get me through those two weeks of hell. You've seen me before, Stace. It's going to be bad."

Oh, the pills. I quickly search through my bag and fish out the container, rattling it as hard as I can. Both the tall brunette and the redhead halt their actions and wheel around to face me. Chloe's face reddens when she catches sight of the container in my hand.

"What are you doing with that?" She asks, sprinting across the room towards me and grabs the container right out of my hand. The action causes her nails to scratch across my palm and I hiss in pain.

Apology flashes across her face as she scrambles to stand a few feet opposite me, as if afraid of me or something. That apologetic look, however, is soon replaced with a scowl as she quickly pockets the item.

"I found them on Ms Dean's seat after you left." My voice meek and quiet.

The redhead doesn't respond. She merely stares at me with those cerulean eyes – possibly trying her hardest to remember what has happened back at the office. Before either of us can get another word in, Stacie snaps her fingers and motions for Chloe to follow her into her room.

"Becs, do you mind? I kind of have to have a private talk with Chloe."

Biting down on my lower lip, I nod, watching the two of them disappear behind the closed bedroom door. Cries and whimpering soon follow, complete with Stacie's voice. Even though it's muffled, I can sense that the brunette is comforting Chloe. I find my heart sinking at the thought of Chloe tearing up at... At... I don't know. I look back up at the door and it suddenly hits me so hard.

I don't know a single thing about my working partner. Not one damned thing about her personal life.

I recoil at that thought, feeling as if someone has delivered a blow to my stomach. Scenes from the first few days of breakup flash across my mind and replay like a broken video player.

"I'm such a horrible friend." I hear myself say, slumping down against the back of the couch.

Friends. Are we even friends? The most civil we've ever been was when we discussed projects or when we were in front of clients and had to appear professional. Can't get an idea through if we were to fight all the time, right? But even then, my tone would always teeter on the brink of unneeded sarcasm. I smile as I recall the words Chloe'd used on me during those times.

"You're not."

I spin around and nearly fall backwards onto the couch. Aubrey shakes her head as she closes the front door behind her; her other hand hugging a brown bag of groceries. She kicks off her heels and walks towards the kitchen island, relieving her arm of the heavy groceries before turning back to me. I pat on the spot next to me on the couch and flash her my most adoring puppy eyes.

Aubrey knew those eyes and almost couldn't resist them every time. The only time she did was when I begged her to go on my behalf for math exam back in high school and even then, it was impossible for her only because we're taking the same paper.

My body jolts as she plants herself down heavily on the leather seat, leaning her head against the back of the couch.

"You're not a horrible friend," she repeats; her eyes staring straight ahead at the ceiling. "You just don't know her well enough."

"And that makes me less of a friend, doesn't it?"

The blonde sighs and rubs her eyes to rid of the fatigue, "No. Of course you can try to know her better. And be less annoying with those sarcastic quips."

I laugh breathily, remembering our senseless fights. "Well, I'm sorry about those."

Aubrey dimples, patting and rubbing her hand along the length of my thigh encouragingly. "That's a good start, Becs."

"Is she sick?" Panic flashes across her face and she steels her eyes back at the ceiling; the veins in her neck protruding and become even more obvious as she tries to calm herself down. Man, did I hit a raw nerve there.

We remain silent as I sit there next to my best friend. I can hear her evening out her rapid breathing – something she always does to calm herself down once she gets agitated. Aubrey has this anxiety tic and she doesn't like the aftermath of it. Actually, no one likes it at all. It's always a horrible mess after everything ends.

"Anyway," I say, changing the topic since it's likely that she's not going to continue down that road and I don't like to clean up a pile of vomit, "Chloe mentioned that I talked weird during my sleep that night when Jesse came over."

Aubrey turns her head to look at me for a moment and bursts into maniac laughter.

"Oh yes! You always say the darnedest things, Becs!" She gasps between each wave of laughter, wiping hard at her eyes.

"Okay, what did I say?"

"Oh you know, you totally bashed those two jerks. It was pretty funny."

"And I said some things about Chloe too, right?" She stops laughing.

In fact, she stops saying anything and gets up from the couch, stalking towards the kitchen in silence. Whenever that happens, it means that she's not going to spill anything – not even to me. I sigh at the lost cause of ever finding out what exactly I'd said about the redhead and slowly get up from my own seat, stretching my arms and hearing a few bones pop and crack in my back.

"Leaving already?" Stacie emerges from the room, her eyes slightly red and swollen. I nod, motioning around the room to indicate that I've no more business in staying.

"Stay for dinner. Aubrey's making your favorite wraps." The brunette looks over Aubrey's shoulders as she wraps her arms around the blonde from behind.

My eyes dart towards the next emerging figure from Aubrey's and Stacie's room. A disheveled-looking redhead stands meekly in the doorway, looking totally unsure of herself and everything around; her arms crossed and hugging her torso.

She looks so frail.

"Are you staying?" She asks, her voice a mere whisper as she looks at me with those misty eyes.

I don't know why – I have two basketfuls of dirty laundry waiting to be flung into the washing machine and a pile of dishes leftover from the weekend; I have my Chinese takeaway stowed in my bag, a bunch of folders to look through for the upcoming projects and I have my mom's birthday present to make (I'm knitting her a set of beanie, mittens and shawl – okay fine, only the latter two because the beanie is too small to fit anyone). All these listed in my mental To-Dos and one look from the redhead causes that list to shrivel.

"Yeah, of course I'm staying."


	5. breaking up with swift and lautner

I stroll into the apartment, half-panting because I just ran up a few flights of stairs, and half-squinting because Aubrey's apartment is eerily dim. I jump from my spot at the door when someone emerges from the shadows near the couches.

Apparently, the other person is scared out of her wits too.

"My gosh, what the heck are you doing here without any sound?" Stacie asks, her voice slightly hushed and urgent as she clutches her left breast.

"I'm here for trash bags and Aubrey."

"Oh, you're cleaning?" I nod, sticking my hand out expectantly. "Wait here, I'll go get her."

"Why are we whispering?"

Stacie stops in her tracks and turns around, jabbing her thumb at the couch. "Chloe's just fallen asleep. Don't make any noise."

I watch her disappear into the bathroom and slowly creeps my way to the couch. There, lying in fetal position is the redhead. Her left cheek is covered with drool as she snoozes on peacefully. A slight warmth buzzes in my gut as I reach down to sweep and tuck her hair behind her ear. Gosh, is she pretty.

I've never noticed that.

Long eye lashes that aren't assisted by any mascara, a perfectly shaped nose that is almost as cute as a button, high cheek bones with enough meat to pinch, and those – oh man, those lips. Thick enough to gnaw on and thin enough to let her let her remain a sex goddess.  _Wait, what?_

I sigh as I lean on my elbow, studying her sleeping features. Thank God she's not awake now if not I'd really be a-

"Creeper, what's up?"  _Crack!_

I howl in pain, grabbing my neck. Chloe's eyes shoot open and she slowly sits up, rubbing her eyes. She surveys the room, arching her eyebrows at the sight of an amused Aubrey and a scowling Stacie. She then turns her attention on me as I rub on my neck heavily, trying to ease the pain.

"Well, I guess you don't need my service anymore," Aubrey smirks, eyeing my neck. "What are you thinking anyway, cleaning your apartment so late at night?"

I sigh and plop down on the couch next to Chloe.

"I can't sleep. I keep getting that image of Jesse and Benji every time I close my eyes." Aubrey and Stacie exchange looks while Chloe rubs my back empathetically.

"Hey, it's okay," the redhead whispers into my ear, her hand still rubbing circles on my upper back. "Just take that medicine from Dr Burke and sleep the night away. I can call in sick for you tomorrow at work."

"Yeah but I've that meeting with Mr Lautner tomorrow. Something about showing me where he'd want the wedding to be." I grouse into my hands, covering my eyes as thoughts of that handy project swarm my mind. Great, I haven't called Ms Swift. Yet another thing to occupy my bedtime now.

"I'll go."

"No." Stacie and I say at the same time; hers a little louder than mine. Actually, hers is more like a shout.

"No, Chloe Anne Beale. No way am I allowing you to go." Stacie's voice firm as she steels her eyes on her best friend who cowers under the glare.

"Please?" Chloe pleads, flashing her puppy eyes. "I mean, look at Beca. She's practically a panda now – I can't let her scare away our client like that."

"Gee, thanks." The redhead shoots me a look before turning back to the brunette.

"Plus, I'm really fine. Really, Stace. Can't you trust me?"

The tall brunette groans, throwing her hands up in the air looking exasperated. Chloe shoots a pleading look at Aubrey who quickly calms her girlfriend down by wrapping her arms around her waist.

"Shh, I'm sure Chloe knows what she's doing..." the blonde's voice a whisper as she gathers her girlfriend into her bosom.

The redhead sees a window of hope and jumps right in, "Please?" She tries, dragging out the "ese".

"Fine," the brunette says, having untangled herself from Aubrey, "but I want you to text me your whereabouts every 30 minutes."

"Woah, you have a strict Mom there, Chloe." My snigger soon turns into a wince as Stacie levels against me.

"Don't even get me started on you, Mitchell! I told you to be quiet. And now you have Chloe running your errands for you!" She snares, making to walk towards me but is thankfully held back by my best friend.

"I'll talk to her." Aubrey assures, flashing her girlfriend a small smile and ushering me out of her apartment quickly.

I cast one last look of fear at Stacie through the gap of the closing door but realize she isn't glaring at me anymore. Instead, she's kneeling down behind the couch, cupping Chloe's face in her hands. Both women have tears streaming down their cheeks.

_Hmm._

I let Aubrey lead me down the stairs as that parting image etches itself unto my mind. Well, at least I don't have to see my ex boyfriend and ex bestfriend together anymore.

Not that the latest image isn't unnerving.

_But at least Chloe's in it. Wait, what?_

* * *

Aubrey is pacing up and down the length of my living room, wringing her hands – clasping and unclasping them. Now,  **this**  can get me to sleep. After 5 minutes of watching a nervous wreck ruining my parquet flooring, I clear my throat. The blonde stops walking and turns to face me. My eyes dart between her and my precious floor as I approach my best friend.

"Hey you," I start, reaching out to grab her shoulders in a bid to calm her down.  _No vomiting, no vomiting._

"Hey."

"Sit." I pull up a chair and gently guide her down to sit. "Okay, spill. What's going on?"

Aubrey remains silent, her eyes not meeting mine. Well, this can take whole night. I sigh aloud when an idea strikes me. I quickly pull up chair and sit facing her. She narrows her eyes at me, not knowing what I have in mind.

"Let's play 20 questions! I'll ask, you answer."

"But what if you ask something that will result in my girlfriend slash fiancee disowning me?"

I gesture wildly at the closed door, "What happens here, stays here." I say assuringly.

Hopefully it's enough to be "assuringly".

The blonde sighs and nods in defeat. I smile, knowing that I've won half the battle. Now, time for some truths.

"Is Chloe sick?"

Aubrey turns pale immediately and slowly nods her head in agreement. My heart clutches up at her admission.

"With what?" I'm almost afraid to ask.

"I don't know how to explain. She has to see Dr Brun quite frequently though," Aubrey's voice soft and meek as she worries her lower lip. "I think that you should ask Chloe if you really want to know."

"Because she has to get medicine from him, right?" She nods again.

"Something called Affinity, right?" The blonde narrows her eyes as she tilts her head a little to the left to think. After a few minutes of silence, she shakes her head.

"No..." She drawls, eyes still narrowed, looking as if she's trying hard to recall something. "Seriously, I'm not the one you should ask. Chloe."

I ponder for a moment, deliberating my next question. What Aubrey said is true – I should approach the redhead if I want answers but now the question is: why do I want to know? A few days ago, she's this person whom I thought I couldn't stand but now...

"Beca?"

"Sorry, kind of spaced out a little."

"You've been doing that quite often, especially after the breakup."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Remember when you asked what you'd said in your sleep?" My eyes widen and I move to lean in closer to her; my butt seated on the edge of the chair. "It isn't the first time you talk about Chloe; in fact, you actually talk about her quite a lot in your sleep even before the breakup. Then it happened and you started talking about her even more."

"Wha- Wha- What? What did I say?"

Aubrey's face reddens slightly but a sly smile is making its way to her lips as she closes her eyes to recall. Gosh, did I talk that much? Is that why Jesse has asked me who the heck Kiwi is? After a long while, her eyes jerk open and she smirks like she has got a handle over me.

"I can't really remember most of them although I'm very sure they're quite explicit," I feel my own face flush with heat at her words. "but I do remember clearly the last time I overheard you – and that's when Chloe was around too."

"The night when that dirtbag showed up?" She nods.

"Yeah, you said..."

* * *

I walk into the loft with my head bowed and hanging low, mumbling my 'Uhs" and 'Ehs' as the people around me chirp their good mornings to my passing figure. After that little talk with Aubrey last night and the terribly awkward revelation, I really don't want to face my work partner. I can't believe myself. What's wrong with me?! Best friend sure had a fun time laughing at my red face and predicament. And to think, the redhead was there when I said it. That's just wrong, too wrong.

So wrong.

I dare a glance up and see that the coast is clear. She's not around.

Giving myself a mental fist pump, I speed up and make a beeline for my chair when I find my face planted into someone's breasts. Woah, these are soft;  _sniff._  And they smell good too.  _What?_ I slowly lift my head and grimace when a pair of light blue eyes glares down at me.

"That Lautner guy is no good man!" She says aloud, gaining the attention of the people around me. Actually, just Fat Amy but once that woman knows, the entire building would know. Her PR skills are that good.

"What did he do? Who's this Lautner person?" asks the Australian, planting herself on  **my**  chair as she awaits the continuation of this juicy piece of news.

"He – an engaged and about to get married man, asked me on a date!" I've never seen Chloe this furious my whole life – except when she almost murdered Jesse that night. The veins around her eyes are almost popping; her face almost as red as her hair which is actually quite funny because she looks like a hairy tomato. Yeah, that is funny-

"What are you laughing at? I helped you and I get this kind of crap?" Okay, not funny when the anger is directed at me. I raise my hands in surrender and gesture to zip up my lips. She glares at me some more before turning back to Fat Amy.

Who is currently chowing down  **my**  packet of apple chips.

"Well, what did you say? And stop poking me, Beca!"

"I want my chair back!"

"I- I... I sort of hit him..." Chloe's voice small and timid, ignoring my whining.

"You hit him?! Where, in the crotch?" Fat Amy drops her jaw and my precious bag of apple chips. I wince at the mess; those are 30% less fat than your regular potato ones.

There goes my comfort food.

"Yes, and yes," the redhead sighs and buries her face in her hand. My shoulders slump in response too. I can't believe he did that. I mean, if he ever hits on me, I would-

"Chloe, Beca – come over to my room." Ms Dean's voice booms across the entire office, drowning out our little discussion. "Now."

The two of us linger around the closed door as we try to ignore Ms Dean's glare sent our way. She has her hair dyed orange and in dreadlocks. That color only made her look more fearsome than usual. We're so dead.

She lifts up one finger and motions towards the two chairs in front of her huge oak desk, "Sit."

We quietly obey and scramble for the seats, knocking our heads together when we try to snatch the same one. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see our boss shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

"What, am I going to do with you two?"

I bite my lower lip as I try to ignore her question, choosing to play with the loose string that came off from one of the buttons of my flannel shirt. I wonder if I pull hard enough, would the button come flying off? The sound of someone clearing their throat rouses me from my thoughts and I shoot up in my seat, sending the button flying into Ms Dean's cup of coffee.

Okay, I'm doubly dead.

"Chloe just told me that she's gone to see Mr Lautner on your behalf. Haven't I told you that I'm taking her off this case till end of the week?"

"Yeah but-"

"Ms Dean, I told you that just to let you understand. Beca was sick and she didn't mean for this to happen. I mean, sure Mr Lautner was an ass but everything's well now and we're carrying on with the proj-"

"Carrying on? After that stunt, do you really think the Lautners are letting us take on their wedding? Beca, I told you not to scre- Hang on, hello. Yes, I'm Cynthia Rose. Oh Mr Lautner! I was just talking to them about you," Ms Dean shoots us a glare before turning her chair to face the wall. I steal a sideway glance at the redhead beside me and find her looking back at me.

Her lips purse together, forming a small pout as her eyes try to search out something in mine.

"It's okay," I mouth, reaching over my hand and placing it over hers. My breath hitches when she closes her fingers over mine and holds on tightly.

This feels nice.

"So you want them to continue? That'll be great! Yeah, of course we'll try our best to accede to your requests. Oh, hasn't Beca explained to Ms Swift regarding the- Oh, she hasn't?  **She hasn't**?" Why am I getting the feeling that I may not make out of this office alive? Chloe looks amused, coughing to stifle what is clearly a snigger.

"Yeah, of course we won't let such a thing affect Ms Swift and her enthusiasm towards the wedding. Thank you, Mr Lautner. Yeah, I believe Chloe's fine now. Yes, I believe her girlfrien-, her  **girlfriend?**  Beca Mitchell is her girlfriend?" She darts her eyes towards us and widens when she sees our linked hands. "Alright. Yeah, okay. Good day to you too. Bye."

Ms Dean breathes out as she slowly replaces the receiver. She stares at our hands for a while before taking a long sip at her coffee – only to promptly spit it out when she remembers the button that lays at the bottom of the cup.

"I- I- I will make you a new cup." I gesture awkwardly at the ceramic container, hoping that it would gain me some new plus points after the many minuses I've gotten in the span of 7 minutes.

Our boss shakes her head and places her cup back on the desk with a thud. "Mr Lautner has agreed that the wedding will go on if you will let the matter rest, Chloe."

The redhead sighs and nods her head. "Yes, Ms Dean. Look, I'm terribly sorry about that."

"It's okay, Chloe. I'm sorry you had to go through that. I mean," Ms Dean darts her eyes and fixes those hazel brown orbs on me, making me feel smaller instantly. "Your girlfriend should have been the one to have gone for that meeting."

I quickly let go of Chloe's hand and adjust my spectacles. "Uh, Ms Dean. We are not together."

"Really? But you're wearing that flannel shirt. I thought you're gay."

"What? For your information," I titter in disbelief, "these are comfortable and I am so not gay. I just broke up with my  **boy** friend."

The orange-haired woman arches her eyebrow at my words, "As in a man?"

"Yes!" I throw my hands up in exasperation, frowning when I hear a giggle from the redhead next to me.

"Oh, that's a shame. You two look cute together."

I facepalm as Ms Dean continues to rattle on about that horrible project and other things. I throw a glance in the redhead's direction and arch my eyebrows when I see her nodding along happily at our boss' words. Somehow, Chloe looks unaffected by the whole girlfriend situation. Why is she so calm about this? Doesn't she feel weird?

I wonder, looking into those cerulean eyes and replaying Aubrey's words in my mind.

Huh.

* * *

"Hey," Chloe greets wearily as I struggle up the steps onto the archway. She's wrapped in two layers of fleece as she leans heavily against the concrete pillar. Her breaths form white wisps in the cold night air as she stares sleepily into space.

I cant my head in response, grabbing her arm and pulling her indoors. The hostess casts us a sympathetic look as she guides us to the table where Ms Swift is seated. The two of us mutter our thanks, plopping down on the cushioned long bench before lifting our heads to face our client.

"Morning!" Her bright, chirpy voice does nothing to alleviate the mounting pain at the side of my head. I can see Chloe wincing mid-yawn from the corner of my eyes.

The redhead sighs and rubs her eyes, "Morning to you too, Ms Swift. May we know what exactly is so important and urgent that you have to send for us in the middle of night? It's-" she darts her eyes at her watch, "430 in the morning."

The woman in front of us seems unflinching at Chloe's words; her smile still as bright as the sun in the dark of the night.

"Oh come on, you two. What were you up to last night that made you so tired?" She asks, waggling her eyebrows at us. "Anyways, it's not like I want to waste my beauty sleep on you two. I just got the best idea in the world! You know, Beca – after you told me that the idea of having the Aurora in summer is impossible, pfft. I thought of having our wedding in Versailles! You know, that palace where King Louis XIV used to live and ride his pony around? I would walk down the long aisle in the garden where musical fountains flank the sides. I'll have a magnificent laser show as well, maybe saying things like Swift-Lautner's epic couple of the year! Oooh, I also want the entire Vienna Boys choir sing for my marching in and our marching out."

I stare at the woman in front of me, not knowing what to say. I'm speechless – utterly speechless. But I have to say something, she's looking at us, practically begging for a response.  _A yes response._

Something's up.

Chloe has regained her composure first, "Yeah, we understand that all those would be very grand and impressive, Ms Swift, but that would cost a bomb-"

"Literally an atomic bomb on Mr Lautner's pockets," I add.

Our words immediately wipe off the smile from her face, turning it quickly into a scowl. Man, no amount of makeup is able to prettify that face.

"That's exactly what Jonny has said! I can't believe he's turning into this selfish miser. I want to have a perfect wedding! Don't you two want a perfect wedding? I mean, if it's possible for you to marry. Anyway, I can't believe him! We got into this huge argument last night and he doesn't want to listen to me! He wants the wedding to be held at that stupid backyard garden of his. That's the first time he's done that. I can't believe him! And because of that, I can't sleep – and you know what happens when I don't get enough sleep. You guys must help me!" She bangs her hands on the table to emphasize the last few words, rattling the various crockery.

I feel my jaw drop at her words. It's dropped so far I probably have to pick it off the floor. This is ridiculous.

"We totally understand where you're coming from, Ms Swift but that is really huge and it would take many man hours to achieve."

"So you're saying that you can't do it?" Her voice filled with malice as her eyes glint with challenge.

Chloe sighs, shaking her head, "No, that's not what I'm saying. I mean we-"

"I can always look for another company you know." Okay, that's it.

"Suit yourself."

My voice is so cool and leveled, I'm surprised myself. I can feel Chloe's eyes widening as she burns them right into the side of my head, probably silently begging me to stop and step aside; her arms on mine instantly.

"What did you say?"

I clear my throat and try to look as alert as possible.

"I said, suit yourself."

"What kind of attitude is this?" Her voice raised, her eyes fuming as she tries to level me with her glare.

"Ms Swift," I calmly take a sip on my tea, "if Mr Lautner and yourself have a difference in opinion, it would be best if you go home and trash it out with him before informing us of your final, unified decision. We can't and we won't be the middlemen to mediate your arguments every time you have one. We have no such obligation. You've called and summoned us at 430 in the morning to grouse about it – fine, we'll treat it as you're just pouring your woes on us and we your listener. I would leave and not take anything you've said with me once I step out of those doors. Yes, you are paying us but that doesn't mean that the two of us will be constantly at your beck and call 24/7 – we have our own working hours."

Silence lingers on as I pause to take a breath. I throw a glance at my wide-mouthed partner and smirk. "Come on, Chloe. Let's go back and have our own beauty sleep."

The redhead returns my smirk and grabs on tightly to my outstretched hand. The two of us rise from our seats, my eyes still fixed on Ms Swift's.

"Why you little..."

"Just a word of advice, Ms Swift: I've been in this line for a long while now. Couples that fell out prior to their wedding isn't an uncommon situation: the men would go back on their engagement promise when the demands from their partners get too much; the brides would then regret being so demanding and chase after their men with tails between their legs. Such a scene is not romantic or dreamy at all. I've no other intention telling you this, but I thought it would good to share my experience with you. Come on Chloe, let's go."

Chloe flashes Ms Swift a huge grin before pulling me towards the doors.

"Woah, never see that coming, Mitchell."

"It's almost 5. Why don't we grab breakfast before heading home?"

"Aren't you going to work later?" I shrug, knowing full well the consequences.

"Nah, Ms Dean can screw my ass tomorrow. I'm getting my beauty sleep."

Chloe's laughter rings out brightly and pierces through the morning air as we stroll towards the nearest Starbucks; our hands still stuck together and never let go.

* * *

"I can't believe you did that, Beca!" Luke chimes in with a mug of beer, pushing Bumper away as he takes a seat across from me. "So, what did boss lady say? Was she mad?"

Chloe snorts, gnawing on the sausage on her fork, "Hell was she mad! But she was mad at Swift! Do you know what she said?"

"What?" Everyone else choruses as they lean in with attentive ears. I smirk, downing my own beer as I watch them drool over the details.

It's my first time hanging out with the colleagues. Chloe has finally managed to convince me to join them on their weekly dinner nights – every Thursday at Terry's. I used to walk past this crummy-looking waterhole after work, thinking that it's just some weird place that'd smell like feet. Well, it does smell of feet but it's also filled to the brim with the warm, hearty laughters from its patrons – my group being the loudest. It's actually nice to hang out and get to know them. I mean, who knew Denise – the quietest person (Lilly is another level of quiet) in the office who mostly keeps to herself would be the best drinker of the group?

Luke – the one who flirted with our interns if they happen to wear skirts and makeup, is actually an excellent rapper and he also writes his own lyrics. I remember Chloe laughing and spilling her drink when he made up a rap on the spot about Swift. Lilly, our soft talker and loud singer, would show off her vocal skills at the tiny stage in the corner of the pub. Apparently she's a well-known figure here – judging by the cheers and wolf whistles she get from other tables the moment she steps onto the stage. I remember choking on my beer when she started beatboxing. Chloe'd nudge me and passed me a piece of napkin as we enjoyed the Asian's performance. Fat Amy, our PR guru, would sneak to a corner with Bumper and have all sorts of heart to heart talks with him. According to Luke, that usually ends up in heavy making out. Maybe that would explain the puppy eyes Bumper's been making at Fat Amy in the loft.

"So that enemy thing they have going on is just a facade?" I ask, quirking my head towards the couple who has stalked off to the washrooms.

"Yeah, the kind that you and Chloe have."

"What?"

"You know, you and Chloe. I mean, I've seen how she looks at you. She definitely likes you."

"Wha-" The blaring ringtone from my phone cuts me off and I stare at it with dreary eyes. Swift's number flashes across the screen and all I can see is "Danger, danger, danger!"

Chloe casts me a look; both of us unsure if we should answer it. Whilst she has been livid after we left her humiliated in the restaurant, Ms Dean has somehow miraculously calmed her down and reassured her that we'd be able to give her the best wedding ever - thus, chaining us to this madhouse of a woman.

"Why are you girls looking so gloomy?" Fat Amy has returned from the washroom; Bumper sits down next to me looking slightly dazed and dreamy.

Chloe jerks her chin towards the ringing device and frowns. The Australian smirks and reaches over to grab the phone. "This is easy, just decline it and put it on silent mode! It's happy hour, baby – we should be having fun!" She presses a button and places the phone back onto the middle of the table.

"Just how crazy is that client, anyway?" Luke asks, taking a seat next to Chloe and lifting his mug to the bartender for a refill.

"She is horrible. She is like, a bridezilla. No wait, she is the epitome of a bridezilla."

I nod, shaving off the last of my mashed potatoes, "Yeah. She reminds me of my aunt Sheila when she's going through her menopause."

"Exactly. When she doesn't speak, the world is peaceful and she looks perfectly like a dream. The moment she opens her mouth, all hell breaks loose."

"Other couples use their wedding as a celebration of their love; this lady uses hers as a platform to show off her fiance's riches and her ability to be able to snatch one like that. Every meeting is a torture; she would give all sorts of weird suggestions and demands that we meet them. Seriously, Northern Lights in the middle of summer out in the open? Having her groom to skydive down to the altar during her march in?"

Fat Amy snorts, lifting her mug to her lips, "Wow, this lady sounds like a bitch."

"Yeah well, her fiance isn't exactly perfect too."

"That asshole who tried his charms on Chloe?" The redhead frowns at the memory as she spits out her food.

"Asshole and the bitch. That does sound like the wedding couple of the year, ain't it?" I quip, smirking as everyone responds in guffaws.

Well, apparently not everyone.

"Beca Mitchell! How dare you, you son of a ass-eating swine!"

I freeze; Chloe mirrors my expression as we dart our eyes down at the phone.. It is lit up with the call timer flashing across the screen. I slowly turn to face Fat Amy who cowers under our glares. I lift up the device towards her face and tap hard on the screen to end the call.

"For serious, Amy Wilson. You can't differentiate between 'Hands-free' and 'Decline Call'?"

* * *

The sound of my fingers typing against the keyboard reverberates across the loft. It's already 8 in the evening and everyone has left. I can't because Ms Dean has expected this report to be on her desk the next morning. Groaning along with my empty stomach, I take a quick sip on my lukewarm chocolate before resuming the typing.

_Thud, thud, thud._

I pause my typing, straining my ears to make sure I'm not hearing things. Yup, I am  **definitely** not hearing things. I whip around just in time to see a hand approaching my chest and grabbing the lapels of my jacket. Before I can see clearly who the attacker is, another hand comes into view to grab my spectacles away. I wince when I hear them crack upon impact against the surface of the desk.

_There goes my new pair of Raybans._

I squint and try to make out the face of the attacker but my sight is far too damaged to allow that. All I can see is a blur of moving bodies of colors.

"What do you want?" I stammer as the person pulls me up from my seat. I try to move and yank away their hands but I can't – my arms feel like lead for some unknown reason.

_Someone has spiked my drink!_

"Let me go or I'll call the police!" I scream as they push me back against my desk; my butt hitting the edge of the furniture and I groan in pain.

"Shush and don't move." I freeze at the voice. "I've waited for this moment for a long, long time."

Her voice sultry and deep, lacking its usual brightness and innocence. I feel her firm grip over my shoulder whilst her other hand slides from my chest down my abdominal area and round the curve of my waist, stopping right at the small of my back. I hear her smirk as she pulls me closer towards her; our fronts now flush against each other's.

"You, you waited for this?" I dare an ask; my heartbeat picking up rapidly as it throbs against my throat. I try to steel my useless eyes into hers but really, all I'm staring into is a blur. It's like a very badly drawn picture using watercolors that are too diluted.

I really need to get my eyes checked  **again**.

"Mhmm." That's the last coherent word I hear from her as she crashes our lips together. I melt in the sweetness of those luscious lips – someone's been wearing strawberry-flavored lip gloss.

As if hearing my thoughts, she pulls back slightly. I whimper at the loss and lean my head forward to capture her lips again. She chuckles as she caresses my face.

"It isn't the lip gloss, you silly," her voice low and suggestive as she leans into my ear, her breath heated and moist against my earlobe, "I ate strawberries before I came."

Somehow, my arms manage to regain strength at those words. I reach up and grab her arms – yanking them away and shifting such that I'm the one towering over her. I feel her shifting under me and I tighten my grip over her shoulders.

"Relax, we're just getting started," she whispers, canting her hips and pushing them up against mine. My breath hitches as her fingers trace along my jacket's lapels, making their way up to my neck. I shiver at her touch as she continues to draw along my neck and outline my jaw. Reaching up to cup her face, I run my thumb over her right eyelid and find it moist.

She's crying.

Before I can ask, she leans in and captures my mouth again. Her tongue slips out and runs along my upper lip and I part to let her in. I feel her smile as our teeth clash together and our tongues fight for dominance. My eyes flutter close as our heated breaths mix and I swear strawberries are my favorite fruits from now on – for various reasons. My grip over her shoulder loosens and I run my hand down her shoulder blade, pausing right above her left chest. Her heart is beating rapidly as well, almost matching mine.

Actually, way faster than mine.

I break away immediately and hold her at arm's length. Worry and concern wash over me like a tidal wave as I feel around my desk blindly for my spectacles.

"What's wrong?" She asks, her voice laced with worry. "Don't you want me?"

I purse my lips once I regain my sight; my heart plummets as I take in those misty eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Such a broken beauty.

"Of course I want you," I hear myself speak as I caress her cheeks, sweeping her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ears.

"I want you too. I'd wanted you the moment I met you."

"Really?" She nods, flashing the sweetest smile as she settles her arms around my waist.

"And I want you to remember this when you get up."

"I wil- What?" I frown as our surrounding starts to blur. Did someone just turn off the lights?

"I love you." Her voice now a mere whisper as she starts to fade; her grip over me losing its strength. I panic, parting my lips to speak. I want her to know; she has to know.

She  **must**  know.

I shoot upright, panting heavily. I look around and find myself in my own bed; my clothes are drenched with perspiration and stank of alcohol from the previous night. The red digits flashing in the clock inform me that it is 5 in the morning – I've only been asleep for 4. I close my eyes and try to replay the dream. Nothing comes up.

Nothing except Aubrey's face and voice – her lips moving as she utters the words repeatedly at me.

_You said, "I love you too, Chloe."_


	6. Peace Hill Hospital

The skies are overcast and the streets glimmer with the headlights from the moving cars. The air is chilly, sending shivers right down to the bone. I hold on tightly to my umbrella as I brave against the drizzle and the wind, hoping that the passing vehicles would be merciful towards helpless pedestrians like me and avoid the several potholes in the road. A few trees lay uprooted from last night's storm and people are sidestepping the roots and branches as they try to beat the morning rush. Everyone seems to have a scowl or a frown on their faces – and that depicts the mood of the day ahead.

"Morning" Luke mutters under his breath as he takes his place next to me in the crowded lobby. The blonde man shakes his head in an attempt to rid of the excess water in his hair. The people around him grouse as the droplets of cold water hit them at various parts of their bodies.

A loud noise behind cause us to spin around; a drenched redhead is squatting down to pick up her umbrella which looks tattered and torn. I gasp when she looks up, attempting to tame her umbrella which kept opening up like it has a mind of its own. Even without makeup and having her wet locks stuck to her face in an unruly manner, Chloe looks gorgeous.

Like, drop dead gorgeous.

I watch as she packs the dripping wet canopy of nylon into a plastic bag before stuffing it into her backpack. Her eyes all forlorn as she examines her own wet state of being. She may as well just throw that useless piece of umbrella away.

"Hello, wet dog," I call, waving at my partner. She jerks her eyes towards me and rolls them skyward before stalking over to join Luke and I. The blonde flashes her a tight smile as he continues to tame his own wet locks in the reflection of the elevator doors.

"Don't you have a poncho or something in your bag that you have always flaunted to Stacie and I? Always be prepared, you'd say. Why, is this wet look the newest kid on the fashion block?" I jibe, observing a drop of water roll down the length of her neck.

"I just want to make myself look sorry enough so that I won't get much hell from Ms Dean later."

"That's so childish. You might as well lose a limb or something to show your sincerity."

The elevator arrives at that moment and the few of us quickly squeeze onto the metal platform. The mood solemn as we countdown the number of floors to Dean's List – to a certain doom that awaits both Chloe and I. Audible gasps resonate around the metal room the moment the elevator chimes to indicate our arrival at the loft.

75, the number of steps between the elevator to Ms Dean's office. Even before Chloe and I took the first step onto the lobby, we can hear Ms Dean's exceptionally loud voice echoing through the entire floor.

"Good luck." Our fellow colleagues mumble quietly as they sidestep us to head to their respective cubicles. Everyone is early today – no one even dares a venture to the pantry for their usual morning cup of caffeine.

I gulp and exchange dark looks with the redhead. This is it.

* * *

Ms Dean doesn't even look up when we walk through the threshold into her office. She is seated on the couch preparing her french press. Chloe and I exchange another round of dark looks before timidly taking our place on the couch opposite our boss. We steel our eyes on the African-American, ignoring the loud pounding of our hearts in our ears.

After a few minutes, Chloe clears her throat.

"Ms Dea-"

"Shh."

Chloe nods and she sits back into the couch. Her knees meeting each other as she clasps and unclasps her hands. I throw a last glance at my redheaded partner before turning back to my boss, wiping my hands along the length of my thighs to rid of the perspiration that has gathered in the palms.

"How long have you worked here?" Ms Dean's unusually calm demeanor and voice catch us off guard and we jump in response. She raises an eyebrow at our sudden movement but her eyes are still affixed on the ceramic cups in front of her. She then lifts the pot and pours out two cups of coffee.

Chloe and I steal glances at each other, silently asking one another if it's okay to take up Ms Dean's implicit offer of the brown liquid. The redhead nods her head slightly and reaches out to grab a cup, only to wince when Ms Dean suddenly moves to slap her hand away.

"No coffee for you, Chloe." She snaps, shifting the cup out of the redhead's reach. "You should know your condition."

Chloe sighs and nods; her face changing from determined mode to her usual puppy face whenever she's upset. I quirk my eyebrows, shifting in the seat so that I can look at both of them with ease. My heart plummets when Ms Dean darts her eyes to me. Now,  **that**  is a death glare.

"How long have you worked here? Do I need to repeat myself again?"

"A- About 5 years." I stammer out, mentally counting the number of months I've actually worked here.

It wasn't my first intention to work at Dean's List fresh out of college but I didn't have a choice. Six months prior to graduation, I've sent all the mixes I have to the various record labels and all of them replied saying that I lacked a quality; that I needed to improve. Whilst my friends have dug my music, the professionals did not – nor did the crowd at the clubs where I've spun at from time to time to earn extra bucks during school.

"Maybe I'm just not cut out for this scene. I'm done, I'm so done." I remember whining to Aubrey one drunken night after another unsuccessful gig at a local club. She'd slapped the back of my head and yelled, "You're not done till you're tough inside, Mitchell! Keep going, you have it in you."

Whilst her words have fueled my passion on, bills and other necessities gradually caught up. When we graduated, the need to get an apartment soon overtook the need to get my music out there. Whilst Dad has offered me a room under his roof, I'd wanted to stay close to the city and with my best friend. After holding out for a year plus and surviving on crackers and jelly, I eventually gave up – sending out resumes like the crazed, hard-up unemployed graduate that I was.

"Beca? Beca!" Chloe nudges me in the arm, shooting me warning looks. I snap out of my thoughts and return my eyes to the orange-haired lady in front of me.

Ms Dean sighs and jerks her head towards the redhead, "Okay, Chloe. You may go."

The redhead nods and solemnly rises from her seat, walking around the coffee table and the couch on which Ms Dean is seated so that she's facing me from behind our boss. She makes a face – sticking out her tongue as she does a shimmy-shimmy dance, and gloatingly hops out of the office.

I roll my eyes and turn back to my boss, deliberating my words as I watch her take a long sip on her coffee.

"Ms Dean, I'm terribly sorry. This whole incident is entirely my fault and I'm really sorry. I know I've made a mistake."

"You and I, we have at least some sort of implicit relationship, don't we?" Her eyes gleaming over mine as she takes another sip on her coffee. I realize there's a cup placed right in front of me and I quickly take a sip at the bitter liquid. "You help me rake in the projects and I'd pay you your worth and your time – that's what we expect of each other, isn't it? Five years is a pretty long time. There's a reason why you're staying and a reason why I'm keeping you this long."

I nod, relieved to know that I've been forgiven as well. I sit up straighter and flash my most apologetic smile. "I understand. I'll go make a call to Ms Swift now."

Ms Dean shakes her head and drops a folder on the table in front of me. She jerks her head towards the item and levels me with a pointed stare. "Don't worry about that bitch." I gasp at her word choice - she  **knew**. "New project. If you screw this up again, Mitchell – out you go."

Relief washes over me as I take hold of the folder. It's thicker than the Swift/Lautner project. I arch my eyebrows and promptly nod my silent promise to my boss.

"I won't, Ms Dean. I'll be a good girl this time." I quip, opening up the folder to reveal a stack of papers and some yellowed photographs. "Oh, a golden marriage anniversary! We haven't had this for a long while now."

Ms Dean's face cracks into a smile for what seems to be the first in a thousand years as she pours herself some more coffee.

"Yup. That's why I told you not to screw it up. Now, I want you to visit Mr Greene at the hospital later this week and see what other special instructions they have for this celebration."

"Hospital?"

The orange-haired lady sighs, reaching over to grab one of the photographs, "Yeah, Mrs Greene is currently warded after a heart attack. Don't worry, it's a mild one. But the doctors are keeping her under observation due to her age. Now, both of them come from the upper class families – I want you to be prim and proper at all times."

I nod again, retrieving the photograph back from my boss. I dart a glance at the image and feel my heart melt at the loving couple. The husband had his arms wrapped round his wife's waist and blissful smiles were plastered on their faces like a permanent fixture.

They are in love.

* * *

"Hey you," Aubrey softly coos as she enters my bedroom. She moves my pillows around to make some space before planting herself on her newly-made cushy throne.

I smirk as I slide my headphones down my ears, resting them around my neck. She pouts a little and shakes her feet like a petulant little girl. I quirk an eyebrow at her and turn my chair to face her squarely.

"Sup?" I ask, running my fingers through my chocolate brown curls.

"I had a small disagreement with Stace," she whimpers, worrying at the corner of one of my pillows. Her hazel eyes well with tears as she recalls the fight she's had with her girlfriend.

Must be quite a fight.

"I don't know what to do. It's actually an ongoing thing for some time now, but I'm getting so tired of having the same fight. Can't she understand that it's not going to happen to all of us? She's getting all paranoid about our health now that Chloe's-" her eyes widen at what she'd almost revealed and she clamps her hand over her mouth instantly.

I find myself sitting up straight in my chair at the mention of her name.

"What? What's with Chloe?" My heart pounding hard against my chest as I steel my eyes on Aubrey's. The blonde starts to fluster and she scrambles to get off the bed.

"No- Noth- Nothing."

"You said, Stacie is getting paranoid about your health now that Chloe is... What?"

"Sick. You know that, don't you? I told you the other day."

"But sick with what exactly?"

"I can't say! Stacie will kill me!"

"Aubrey Ragsdale Posen. I'll kill you before she does, I swear!" My anger mounting as I slam face-first into Aubrey's wall of reluctance again.

"Why are you so upset? Are you, oh my gosh... You are." I lick my lips as I prepare myself for the onslaught. It's obvious what my best friend is trying to get at and there's no way I can get out of this. Not when she's heard everything I've said in my sleep.

"Chloe may think it's a joke, but dude, your boner for her is so obvious. You like her, don't you?" Heat climbs up my neck as I dart my eyes around the room to look for a substitute. Anything to shield me from the impending teasing and interrogation.

This is Aubrey Posen. Nothing stops the Posens from finding out what they want.

My shoulders slump when my search attempt fails. I turn back and grimace at a smirking blonde - her arms crossed in front of her chest, her right eyebrow lifted and almost touching her hairline, and a smug grin plastered across her face. She cocks her head at me, her eyes burning with expectancy.

"So?"

"I have no idea what-" My blaring phone saves the day! I frown when I see an unknown number flashing across the screen. I shoot Aubrey a glance and motion that I'll be taking this call. She huffs and turns to leave the room.

"Hello?" My eyebrows arch at the feeble male voice that floats through the speaker.

"Hi, is this Ms Rebecca Mitchell?"

"Uh, yes. But you can call me Beca, just Beca."

"Oh, hi Beca. I am John Greene."

"Oh right! I nearly forgot. Is it almost time already?" I cast a quick glance at the clock and gulp when the hands show 3:15pm. "I'll be right there. Peace Hill Hospital, is it?"

"Yes, we'll see you later, Beca." I beam at his kind voice and hurriedly slide off the bed to get ready.

* * *

"Hi Mr and Mrs Greene." I call, waving my hands at the elderly couple before me.

Mrs Greene is lying on the bed which is lifted up to form a slope to support the head and the upper body. Her face is radiant and her dark brown eyes glint with kindness and warmth as she struggles to sit up to greet my presence. I lurch forward, stopping her mid-way as I hold on to her hand and shoulder.

"There, there. Don't need to get up, Mrs Greene." I smile brightly at the elderly woman before me, easing her onto her back and slide a pillow behind her head for more support. "I'm Beca Mitchell – I'll be the one to help you with the necessary arrangements for your golden marriage anniversary celebrations."

The gray-haired lady chuckles softly as she lifts her fingers at her lifelong partner, "I've told him not to have any elaborate celebration. It's just the two of us, we don't need to be so raved about the whole thing. And look at me, I won't look good in anything."

"How could that be?" I say with all seriousness. Mrs Greene, despite her age, looks every bit beautiful. I'd bet she has had a long line of suitors in her heyday. "It's a wedding; you'll be in a bridal gown!"

"A gown? Oh no, no no. I'm too old and ugly for that; don't ruin such a good piece of clothing."

Her husband tsks, reaching over to hold her hand. He shoots me a small smile as he gently lifts a cup of water to her lips. "Nonsense. Of course you will look good in anything. I bet you'll look great in a bridal gown. If it doesn't fit you, we can always have one tailor-made for you, my dear."

"Tailor-made? No, no, no! I'll only wear it once. What are you going to do with it after I've worn it? Such a beautiful piece of clothing – are you going to display it at home? Won't you find it a nuisance?" I giggle as Mr Greene bows his head in slight embarrassment.

"Don't be silly. Of course I'll cherish it. I'll put it next to my butterfly collection." His voice soft and gentle as he bores into his wife's eyes, cupping her hand in his.

"You will?" The old man nods, his hand reaching up to push his glasses back up his nose.

"Anyway, Beca. We would like to have the celebration held at Le Plaz de l'Amour."

"Alright," I scribble down the location on my notepad, "On the 18th, right?"

"Yes. Do note that we are both vegan so strictly no animal products, please. And we're looking at having 100 family members and friends with us."

I nod, closing my notepad as Mrs Greene's light snoring fills the room. I jab my thumb at her slumbering figure and whispers my goodbye.

"Thank you for coming, Beca." The old man's eyes twinkle as he waves his goodbye, turning to attend to his wife. I watch from the doorway as he dabs at her face gently with a damp cloth, his eyes trained on her like there is no one else in the world except the two of them.

"I love you, Rachel." he whispers, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on her wrinkled forehead.

Sigh, Jesse used to be the one for me. He used to be the one to whisper "I love you" into my ears. He used to be there for me through my highs and lows, always smiling with encouragement and giving me knowing looks and hugs when I was rejected by yet another record company. I'd always imagined myself walking down the aisle towards him with a bouquet of flowers. Our friends and families would flank both sides of the red carpet with the brightest smiles they could manage without blinding us. I'd imagine us having a red brick house with white picket fence, along with three laughing children and Rascal – our Yorkshire Terrier who will fetch us our newspapers every morning.

I wonder if I can find such love ever again.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" I jump and clutch at my heart, wheeling around to find myself staring into a pair of cerulean eyes.

"Chloe. I- I was here on an assignment." I tilt my head towards the elderly couple; the redhead follows the tilt and visibly melts at the sight of Mr Greene softly serenading his slumbering wife. I smile and tug at her hand, pulling her away from the ward to give the Greenes some privacy.

We stroll down the corridor – our footsteps echoing in the sterile hallway. I remain silent, arching my eyebrow at the redhead next to me, waiting for her reason for being present in the premise. I can hear the wheels turning in her head as she purses her lips to deliberate her words. Her mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out.

"Just tell me. Or do I really have to kidnap both Aubrey and Stacie to torment them into revealing your secret?"

My words elicit a laugh from the redhead. Gosh, isn't that the most wonderful sound ever? It's like a choir of angels singing every time she laughs. Or talks.

Or breathes.

Chloe takes a deep breath and exhales. She turns to me and opens her mouth to speak when a torrent of coughs ploughs through her. I watch in horror as she starts to struggle for air.

"Chloe? Chloe? Hey is there anyone there? My friend needs help! Chloe!" I hold on to the redhead as she starts losing the strength to stand, collapsing into my arms as she continues to struggle with her breathing. Quickened footsteps resonate across the hallway as a bunch of medical workers rushes towards us.

"Chloe? Chloe. It's Dr Brun, can you hear me?" A rather handsome-looking brunette grabs the redhead from my arms, shaking her slightly before easing her onto a wheelchair. He shoots a string of complicated instructions to his crew and I watch the rest of them push the redhead into a nearby ward. The doctor then turns to me; his face looking serious and solemn.

"You, who are you? What happened?"

"I'm Beca, I'm her colleague. We were just chatting halfway when she started coughing and couldn't stop." He frowns at my words, scribbling frantically onto his clipboard as we rush into the ward where a nurse is inserting an injection needle into the redhead's arm.

I'm about to enter the room when one of the nurses stops me. She reaches out her arm and holds me by the shoulders. Her voice calm and collected as she gently pushes me back onto the hallway.

"Hold on, we're trying to help your friend. You have to stay outside so that we can do that without further obstruction."

"No! That's my friend in there, she needs me!" My eyes widen when Chloe collapses fully onto the bed, her eyes closed and her hair all frazzled as she lies there spray-eagle and unconscious.

"What she needs now is for you to calm down," the nurse continues speaking to my ear, "call all of whom you know is related to Chloe and get them here. Let her see them the moment she wakes up later."

I slump into a pile on the floor as the nurse closes the door on me. I bang my head against the heavy door, my thumb scrolling through the list of contacts in my phone.

 _Stacie_.

The tall brunette sprints down the corridor frantically; her eyes darting from door number to door number before landing on my slumped figure on some rows of chairs nearby.

"Beca!" Our bodies collide together as she gathers me into her arms, both of us breaking down into heavy sobs as we try to comfort each other.

"I'm so sorry. I've no idea what happened. She just started coughing and couldn't stop!" Words escape through my lips as I struggle to take a deep breath to calm myself.

Aubrey appears next to her girlfriend, her arms outstretched as she pulls her into a tight embrace. I swipe at my eyes, trying to staunch the flow of tears but failing badly. I have no idea why I'm so upset, why I'm so afraid; why worry is crashing onto me like a series of tidal waves, merciless. My best friend peers at me through her tear-clad eyes and stretches out an arm towards me. I find myself lunging into the hugging women and melts into the blonde's arm as she tries to wrap it around my shoulders as much as she can.

We stay there in the silent huddle for a long time.

* * *

"Here, have something hot." Aubrey holds out a cup of tea and I accept it gratefully, warming my freezing hands against its heated cardboard surface.

Stacie is slumped next to me on the bench, her eyes dull and red. It is then that I realize that both women have no makeup on at all. Stacie's hair is held up haphazardly with a scrunchy whilst Aubrey looks as if someone has tousled through her hair with gel. Both of them are clad in their home clothes – huge, college sweats with shorts and flip-flops.

"What's wrong with Chloe?" I venture an ask, my voice cracked and dry as Aubrey plops down on the seat next to her girlfriend. Stacie shifts in her seat and sighs. Her fingers intertwine together as she stares off into space.

"It's something called SEGA – Subependymal Giant Cell Astrocytoma. Chloe has TSC – Tuberous Sclerosis Complex. She has this major tumor in her brain and while it is non-cancerous, the bigger it grows, the more obstruction and pressure it'll cause on her brain. She has one such tumor removed back in college and everyone was happy for a while. But then it grew again, this time in another part and the doctors can't perform a removal surgery without hurting the nearby brain cells."

Stacie buries her face into her hands, shaking her head as another torrent of tears overwhelms her. Aubrey has her arm wrapped round the brunette's shoulders almost instantly, rubbing circles on her chest in her bid to calm her down.

I breathe out unsteadily as I try to process the information given. Tumor? Brain tumor?

"Will she... Will she be alright?" My voice shaky and airy as I shake my head to rid of the images of all the possible outcomes if the redhead doesn't make it through.

Aubrey casts a look at her weeping girlfriend and shakes her head, "She should be alright; she's been taking medicine to have the tumor reduced, but there are of course side effects."

"Like the coughing?" They nod, shooting up from their seats when the doctor finally emerges from the ward.

"Dr Brun, how is she?"

"She's sleeping, Stacie. She's stable now. You're free to see her but please, be quiet." The three of us nod as we hurry towards the ward. I wince when I see her lying there with a breathing mask over her nose and mouth. Stacie kneels down next to the redhead, her hands grabbing hers tightly as tears threaten to fall again.

"Chloe, we're here. We're right here."

The redhead's eyes flutter open and she barely manages a smile. She glances around the room – her cerulean eyes roaming across her lying position on the bed to a quietly sobbing Stacie, to Aubrey who is standing behind the brunette, holding on to her shoulders, and finally landing on me. Her smile grows wider as she bores into my eyes. She frees her hand and reaches out towards me. I hurriedly grab on to her frail limb, feeling her fingers wrap tightly around mine.

"Hey you."

We watch as her lips move, her moist breath fogging up the breathing mask. Stacie chuckles lightly and makes to remove the obstructing object from her face. Chloe casts a grateful look at her best friend before settling her eyes on me again.

"Hey. I'm sorry. I must have freaked you out just now."

I shake my head, sitting down next to her near her pillow. I reach over and stroke her auburn locks, pushing them gently away from her face and tucking them behind her ears.

"I'm okay. I'm not so easily scared."

"Really? Because I remember hearing you screaming my name in the hallway." I flush, darting my eyes away.

"I did not..." My voice trailing off as my attempts to deny further falter.

Aubrey chuckles and taps her girlfriend on the shoulder, "Hey baby. I think we should leave Chloe alone to let her rest." The brunette shakes her head and voices her disagreement vehemently.

"No way. I'm staying to look after her."

"But you have a report due for presentation tomorrow, remember? That huge one that would secure your promotion?" Stacie frowns and levels her girlfriend with a glare. She opens her mouth to speak but Chloe cuts her off.

"I'm fine here, Stace. Really. Go home."

"But-"

"I can look after her." Words slip out from my lips before I can stop myself. Stacie's eyes widen whilst Aubrey casts me a knowing smirk.

"You? You who can't even boil water?" I shrug, gesturing at the redhead who has leaned herself into me when no one's paying attention. Her head flush against my hip as her eyes flutter shut; her hand still in mine.

Aubrey leans in and whispers something into the brunette's ears. Her hazel eyes widen and she throws me a sideway glance. "Really?"

"Yeah, I'm very sure." Stacie scoffs and turns to me with a weird look on her face. She studies me for a moment before finally nodding her head.

I watch as the couple bids their goodbyes to the snoozing redhead – Stacie bends down to plant a kiss on her forehead whilst Aubrey strokes her arm comfortingly. It's obvious that Stacie cares more about her best friend than the promotional report she has due tomorrow. There is no way she would have let me be the one to stay and take care of the redhead.

Why, then, did she do exactly that?

"Beca... I'm cold." I jump slightly at the voice behind me and wheel around to see a pouting Chloe. Gosh, can she be more adorable? "I'm thirsty too."

I smile and help her sit up on the bed, using my entire body weight to hold her upright. She leans in heavily to the side of my body and rests her head on my shoulder. I gingerly reach over and grab the glass of water, lifting it to her lips. She dips her head slightly and sips on the warm water, a smile breaking onto her face as the liquid warms her up from the inside.

"I want my blankie." I arch my eyebrows at her choice of words.  _Blankie?_ "Please..."

"Okay, your highness." I let her shimmy back down the bed slowly and help ease her shoulders and her head on the pillows. She flashes me a smile as I pull the blankets up to her chin, tucking her arms in and ensuring that every part of her is covered.

She peeks her arm out and motions with her index finger for me to lean in closer. The moment I'm close enough, she pulls my face towards hers and breathes into my ear.

"Promise me you'll be here when I wake up." I flush as her hot breath fills my ear cavity. I clear my throat and sit back up against the headboard. My breath hitches as she peeks out another hand to grab onto mine, intertwining our fingers before pulling them back into the warm blanket. I peer into her eyes – those beautiful cerulean orbs as my words tumble out from my mouth in a bare whisper.

"I promise."


	7. to love again

"Hey, do you still want this?"

Aubrey waves a leather-clad photo album in the air, her forehead gleaming with perspiration. I arch my eyebrows, sieving through my memory cabinets to recall the content in the album. The blonde flashes a quick smile as she lofts the heavy book over, cringing when it hits me squarely on the nose.

"Ow! Oops, sorry!"

I cast a glare at her whilst rubbing the already swelling nose. There isn't blood so it shouldn't be broken. Aubrey bounces over and holds my head in place with both hands over my ears. She pulls me in towards her face such that our noses are mere inches apart as she examines the consequence of her haphazard throw. I hold my breath, trying to recall if I've brushed my teeth that morning. I did, right? I woke up in the mess and went to get some water and... Oh dear.

"Okay, doesn't seem broken and... Your breath smells like rotten eggs." She shoves my head away from her and I quickly throw my arms back to balance myself.

"Stop manhandling me!"

"Or what, you'd tell your girlfriend about it?"

Her face a smirk as she ambles towards the old bookcase, resuming her previous chore. We have been going at this for the past two days now – interspersed with many breaks and visits to the hospital. Stacie wouldn't allow Chloe to head back to her own apartment after checking out from the institution despite the redhead living a few streets away from ours. She wanted to keep her in check and watch over her in case of any relapse. The redhead has refused at first, saying that she'd paid till the rest of the year. Of course her equally stubborn best friend did not accept that as reason enough for her to stay alone.

We wound up looking around the neighborhood for available apartments and found none. Stacie and Aubrey's apartment is too small to add a third person, and Stacie was becoming increasingly frustrated. It was then that I remembered having a spare guestroom at home.

I nearly got murdered by the tall brunette.

In any case, the current state of the guestroom is inhabitable. It smells like dirt and is used as a bigger storeroom – winter coats, boxes of vintage books, childhood toys, etc. Thankfully we have Aubrey – but the bad thing is how thorough she'd wanted the room to be cleaned and tidied. My living room is soon filled with huge bags of trash, waiting to be taken out. For the past two nights I've fallen asleep in a pile of mess – doesn't help the recurring nightmares. Nor that dream.

_That dream..._

I open my mouth in retort but the words get stuck in the throat. Heat quickly climbs the length of my neck as I dart my eyes to break contact with the blonde. She can't stop gloating over the fact that she may be right – especially after walking in on Chloe and I sleeping together in the same hospital bed the next morning. The compromise for space in the super single bed has caused us to assume the most awkward sleeping position ever in history.

I swear my cheeks'd turn into tomatoes every time I replay that scene: my expression probably mirrored that of Stacie's – the classic look of horror which deepened when I saw the biggest smirk plastered across my best friend's face. Aubrey's probably thinking the same scene as I am right now – given that the same smugness is making its way through her features. After what seems like a thousand years, I finally found the courage to speak.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Oh come on, you're her little spoon! Don't deny that you don't feel something for her."

"I don-" My voice clamps up again when I catch sight of the photographs held in the album. I can't even swallow the huge lump that has formed at the back of my throat. Aubrey is sitting next to me in a flash, her arms wrapped around my shoulders and pulling me into a tight embrace – hoping to squeeze away any bad memory.

She failed.

I can't believe I've forgotten to throw this away when we cleared out his things that evening. I'd even thrown out his most prized trophy (the one he won for karaoke). The album slips from my hands and lands onto the ground with a light thud. It's a scrapbook; I've been making this for over a year – collecting pictures, ticket stubs and dinner receipts. It's a gift I've planned for Jesse on our upcoming 7th anniversary and it hasn't been updated for two weeks already.

Two weeks. I pull a little back from her and one look at my face, she knows exactly what I'm thinking. Good old Aubrey. I feel her hand running in circles on the small of my back; the shoulders area of her yellow jersey soaked. I haven't even noticed that I've been crying.

"Hey now..."

"Aub, I- Should I..."

"No, you shouldn't." Her voice firm as anger flashes in her eyes, "It's atrocious they'd do that to you after what they've done. I still can't believe I was even friends with them! And Benji? Man, that's a low blow."

I ponder her words, sighing heavily because I know she's right. They're not worth it, not worth my crying over. Aubrey pulls me closer again and starts rocking us back and forth – her favorite technique to either cheer me up or calm me down. I smile into her shoulder, enjoying her embrace and love.

"Stop thinking about it, Becs. We'll just throw this out." She grabs the album and flings it. I watch the brown booklet fly through the air and lands into the trash bag, spilling some of the trash. Oh well, those can wait.

"Hey baby, how's the- What happened?"

Both of us look up; Aubrey's face breaking into a smile as she untangles from me and scurries over to her beloved. I watch her kiss the brunette on the lips before whispering into her ear. Stacie frowns and turns to throw a concerned glance at me. I shake my head, wiping the tears away to indicate that I'm okay.

"I'm doing better." I say, trying to duck away from her hand as she tries to ruffle my hair. Aubrey laughs at Stacie's antics as she walks over to pick up the remaining trash. Once she's done tying up the last trash bag, we stand in the middle of the room and look around. Stacie makes a noise and smiles when it echoes.

"Cool. Now we'll just have to mop the floor and buy some new furniture." I nod, turning my wrist to glance at my watch.

"I'll mop up and then take a shower. The IKEA guys should be here in an hour. Can you fix us lunch, Aub?"

"What?"

I stop in the doorway and turn around to face my friends, "What?"

"IKEA guys?" I nod again, frowning. Is there something wrong with that furniture company? Do they not deliver on time?

"You bought the furniture  **already**?" Stacie's mouth hangs wide open whilst Aubrey smirks. I know that smirk.

"Yeah, I did. I went to IKEA that afternoon after we decided that Chloe would be staying with me..." My voice trails off as Stacie's initial look of surprise morphs into the same smirk my best friend is sporting. The couple then turn to look at each other – their eyes twinkling with an unfamiliar mischief before they turn back to me.

Why do I have the feeling they're up to no good?

* * *

I arrive outside the hospital ward to find Mr Greene snoring loudly on one of the benches. His head has rolled back and his mouth hangs open while he snoozes on. I find myself giggling inside when I see the drool coming down his chin. Despite his somewhat unglamorous sleeping position, he still looks charming. Must be a looker in his heyday just like Mrs Greene.

"Beca, dear – is that you outside?" I jerk my head towards the door and quickly make my way in. Mrs Greene is sitting propped up against her pillows, a tattered book lying in her hands. Her eyes carried the same twinkle as before, but this time she looks so much better and fresher.

"Hi Mrs Greene, you look so much better today!" I beam, settling down at the foot of her bed, placing my hand on her leg and squeezing it. She returns the smile and darts her eyes down, dog-earing the page before putting the book on the side table.

"What were you doing outside, my dear?"

I blush. "Um, Mr Greene's sleeping outside on the bench and he looks so adorable with his drool flowing down his chin!"

The elderly lady's bright laughter rings throughout the room, jolting Mr Greene from his nap. The man comes rushing in, his eyes frantic as he searches around for signs of trouble – frowning when he found none, except the two laughing figures in the room.

"What are you thinking, old woman, laughing so loud?" He chides, ambling over to lift the blankets higher such that it almost touches the tip of her chin. His wife smiles warmly at him and pats on the spot next to her. He sits down as told and the elderly couple then turns their attention to me.

"I'm here to inform you guys that we've managed to book Le Plaz de l'Amour on the 18th. Arrangements have been made to ensure the luncheon is vegan," I say, putting on my most professional voice.

"Thank you dear. You look like you have something else to say, go on."

"Thanks Mrs Greene. I do have something else for you," my voice trails off as I turn to pick up a garment bag with a hanger. The bride-to-be arches her eyebrows at the bag, turning to face her husband.

"What's this, John? A bridal suit?"

Mr Greene nods happily, retrieving the garment bag from me. His wife lets out a gasp when he unzips the bag, revealing a stunning white dress. It is a bow-neck, full length, pearl-covered dress that Mr Greene has personally picked out for his wife. He has spent an entire day at the bridal studio, poring through their catalogue for hours before even requesting to look at the few samples he'd thought would suit her. It was a very detailed search for the perfect bridal dress and I wait with abated breath to see her response.

The expression on her face is priceless.

I rise to exit the room, wanting to give the couple some privacy when Mrs Greene stopped me. She throws a look at Mr Greene who nods slightly before he turns to leave the room, closing the door behind him. I quirk my eyebrow at the closed door before turning to face the elderly lady. She looks back at me with the same kindly eyes, motioning for me to sit back down on her bed. I sit down as told and steel my eyes at her, waiting for her to speak.

"Beca, dear. Thank you so much for helping us with the wedding," she starts, stretching out her hands to grasp mine.

"Not a problem, Mrs Greene. You deserve it."

"Beca," her voice soft and gentle, almost motherly if you would, "I want you to know that one day you'll find someone who will love you with their entire life."

"I know."

"Don't be afraid to love even though it seems to hurt right now." I nod again.

"It definitely doesn't hurt as much as the first fews days," I admit, bowing my head as I will the tears back. "but- I recalled something when my best friend and I were cleaning up my guestroom and we unearthed this gift that I was making for him."

"What is it?"

"He's getting married in two weeks." The smile on her face falters for a second before she resumes the same brightness behind that curl.

"Oh Beca. If only you knew that you're so loved." I arch my eyebrows at her words. So loved? By whom? Aubrey? Stacie? "There's a girl around your age who has been coming in to visit me the past few days."

_Chloe?_

Her smile only brightens even more as she recalls the frequent visitor, "She's really lovely, bringing me all these flowers-" I look around the room for the first time since I've walked in and indeed there are a few potted plants and flowers in vases. "-so that they can cheer me up. She'd also bring a book or two, reading them to me so that I can go back to sleep after taking that medicine. John isn't around much at night these days – he needs his rest and boy, are we grateful for Chloe."

I feel my lips curl at the mention of her name. "Yeah, she's... She's my partner at work."

"Is that all?" I nod, "That's strange because she's never mentioned that fact. From the way she speaks of you, I thought-"

"Hi Mrs Greene!" Both of us jerk our heads towards the chirpy voice, my breath hitches when my eyes land on the redhead. It must be the sunlight shining on her because she has never look this beautiful.

Not that she isn't beautiful already.

"Oh hi, Chloe! I was just telling Beca about you! Speak of the angel." Chloe blushes slightly at her words, recovering quickly with a well-placed clearing of throat.

"Hi Beca," she greets curtly, sitting down next to the elderly lady. Our eyes meet briefly and I swear I could feel a teeny, weeny spark in the air. She holds my gaze for a moment before darting her cereleans down to the dress that is sprawled over Mrs Greene's body. "Wow! That dress looks stunning! Mr Greene picked this out for you? He's great taste, just like me."

Mrs Greene beams, reaching over to pat her auburn locks gently, "Sure you do, my dear-" her eyes jerk to mine, "you really know how to pick."

* * *

I walk the redhead back to her ward after bidding goodbye to Mrs Greene. Both of us remain quiet, our footsteps the only sounds that confirmed our existence in the hallway. We stick close – our shoulders bumping into one another from time to time, as we try to steal the heat from each other's body in the freezing corridor. I wonder why hospitals always have their air-conditioning in the lowest temperature and at the highest fan speed. We are a few doors away from her ward when I start to shiver. My eyes widen the moment when I feel her fingers wrapped over mine.

She shoots a shy smile at me before training her eyes forward again. I peer down at our linked hands, feeling her warmth shooting up my arm and spreading throughout my body. Then I realize.

I like this. It's not just nice, it's not just warm and fuzzy – it's something I think I would actually want. Wait, no – scratch that.

"I want this."

"What?"

"What?" I let go of her hand and quickly push the door to her ward open, "Here, have you packed your bags? Did Dr Brun say you are free to go? Is Stacie coming as well? Are you hungry? Do you want me to get water for you?"

Chloe looks at me weirdly as she walks past me into her ward. She shakes her head as she climbs onto her bed, snuggling back into her pillows. She then looks back up at me, her eyes burning with expectancy. I quirk my eyebrow at her, planting myself down at the chair near the door.

"I want the TV remote control," she says with pout. I don't know why but my body seems to operate at her words. I feel myself being pushed up and walked over to the TV cabinet. She smiles when I place the device in her outstretched hand. "Than- Hey, where are you going?"

"Sitting down?" I point at the chair before planting my butt on its cushion. Her frown that follows is the most adorable I've ever seen. It's exactly the face of that pouty crybaby in most of internet's memes. She pats on the spot next to her and looks at me expectantly.

"No, Aubrey and Stacie are on their way with your parents. Your best friend just texted me saying that Dr Brun has given you the green light and you're free to go."

"Please? I'm sure they'd take a while with the papers..." Okay, Beca. You can be firm. You won't be brought down by the whining. Nope, you won't.

"Okay."

Her arm snakes around my waist as I move to snuggle into her pillows next to her. My hands are clasped together and placed on my lap as I will my heart to stop pounding so fast. It's been going at this rate every time the redhead appears. Believe me when I say she's going to be the death of me.

"Beca, you look like a statue. Will you relax? And your arm-" she prods at my biceps and pouts, "is blocking me."

I bite down on my lower lip as she lifts my arm over her head and rest it over her shoulders. She leans back, resting her head against my arm, effectively pinning me under her. She then wraps her other arm around my stomach and pulls me in closer to her. The redhead smiles and throws a quick glance at me before turning her attention back to the TV.

"What are we watching?" I whisper, not recognizing the scenes playing on the screen. Chloe mumbles something under her breath before snuggling into my side, burying her face into the side of my breast. "Chloe?"

"Shh, I want to sleep."

"But-" My eyes widen when I finally recognize the characters.

"It's your favorite. They'd just come out with a new season. Now watch quietly and let me sleep."

_Yup, death by Chloe Beale._

* * *

Chloe is finally discharged from the hospital, exchanging a tearful goodbye with Mrs Greene and promising to visit her again soon. "Come with Beca!" The elderly lady has quipped, eliciting giggles from Stacie. Aubrey nudged me in the ribs and wriggled her eyebrows at me, dashing off before I could get to her. Somehow, even the scowl on my face has also greatly amused the Beales. Well, all of them except a flushing Chloe.

"This is your room; we've already moved and unpacked your stuff." Stacie announces enthusiastically as she opens the door to Chloe's new bedroom. The walls are given a fresh coat of paint (cream – the brunette wanted something calming and serene for her best friend), and the parquet flooring has been polished and waxed. Under Aubrey's strict guidance, the room is now spanking clean – even erring on being sparkly.

The look on her face says it all.

"This is so... Thank you so much for this, you girls!" She runs towards us, throwing herself into Aubrey's and Stacie's open arms. The three of them immediately engage in a vicious group hug that threatens to break their bones. I, of course, always volunteer to opt out from such life-threatening activity, choosing to stand by the side and support them morally.

After what seems to be an eternity, they finally break away from each other, wiping tears of joy from their eyes. I feel my lips curl upwards, mirroring their moment of bliss as I turn to head back to my room. I'm halfway through the threshold when a pair of arms wraps itself tightly around me, halting my steps.

"Thank you, Beca. You've no idea what this means to me." She whispers, her breath hot against my ear as her chin digs into my shoulder. I find myself leaning into her embrace, my cheeks burning up. She has finished her mini thank you speech, but her lips are still next to my ear. I blink furiously as I inch my way, tilting my head sidewards; I inhale a sharp take of breath when my ear touches her lips.

I'm melting. I am literally melting.

A cough behind us breaks us from our reverie and we wheel around to see the smiling faces that are Aubrey and Stacie. Chloe shakes her head and makes her way out to the bathroom, leaving the three of us behind.

"So..." The blonde drawls, taking long and big strides towards me.

"Fine, I do, okay? I do. I think I do. No, wait. I really do. I like her."

Aubrey looks shocked at my flurried outburst, her hazel-green eyes darting to meet Stacie's. The two of them stare at me wide-eye with their mouths hanging open.

"Alright, Beca. Chill. It's great to know that you have feelings for my best friend..." The brunette's voice trails off as a look of amusement takes over her features.

"But what I'd wanted to say was that we should celebrate tonight with a good dinner." The blonde chimes in, pulling her girlfriend towards her.

"What?"

"I mean, it could be a triple bliss kind of thing now."

"What?"

"Stacie got the promotion she's wanted, and she's gotten a huge pay raise as well. We'd also wanted to celebrate Chloe's early discharge from the hospital so, you know – a double bliss celebration. But now that you finally admit that you-"

"No, no. Let's just stick to the double thing, shall we?" I say quickly before ducking out of the room – determined to find a hole somewhere to swallow me.

* * *

"Yes, Ms Dean. Yes, I've already settled the venue. The event will take place next Monday in the early evening. Fat Amy is assisting me. Yes, we will. Don't worry Ms Dean. Yeah, I hope so too. Okay, yeah. Alright, see you Monday."

I'd taken a week's leave to ensure that the redhead would settle into the new place quickly and comfortably. Stacie is needed at her labs due to the promotion whilst Aubrey has to attend to a big-time trial that would definitely put her mark in the law industry. Both of them have hardly any time left to even eat or sleep – let alone take care of the redhead.

Not that I mind.

"That's our boss, she's just checking in on that 10 minutes speed-dating event on Monday. Oh, and she says to send her regards to you." Chloe smiles and nods, turning her attention back to the TV set.

"Anyway," I gingerly set down the tray on the coffee table, "here's your breakfast. Smoked Salmon and sautéed mushrooms, along with scrambled eggs on a toasted brioche."

She breaks into a wide grin that brightens up her entire face, her sleepiness all gone as she focuses on spread before her. She quirks a curious eyebrow at me and I simply gesture by tapping on my head. I'm surprised as well – having remembered her favorite breakfast and the way it's done. Our bickering has died down ever since her admittance into Peace Hill but our bantering remains.

"Didn't know you are a fan of mine to even remember my favorite breakfast. Have you been stalking me, Beca Mitchell?" I snort, planting myself down next to her on the couch; she immediately scoots over, leaning into my side.

"You know, I would have thrown a punch at you for sitting so close to me if you're somebody else." I say, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Aww. You love me. I knew it!"

"Yeah, yeah, I love you Chloe Beale."

Uh oh. Dream flashback. I turn and find her looking at me weirdly. She has shifted her body an inch away, our shoulders no longer touching. I almost whimper at the loss of contact – almost. Navy blues on those ceruleans, I find myself getting lost in those bright blue pools of hers.

"You- You love me?" Her voice small, almost meek as her eyes start to brim with tears. She looks so scared. Why does she look so scared? Am I scaring her? Oh my gosh, I am! I've freaked her out!

"Uh, uh-" I try to recover my tracks, "You've probably heard me say it many times, haven't you?" I ask nervously, my eyes darting everywhere except her.

"Yeah, but not when you're  **this**  awake, Beca."

"I-"

"You love me? As in-"

"As in I have feelings for you. As in I like you more than I should for a friend. As in I want to be with you every moment to see you smile and be the one to make you smile." I clasp my hand over my mouth the moment the word vomit finished. My heart pangs with heavy guilt as my breathing starts to labor.

I was so angry when I found out that Jesse is in love with Benji and not me; that his heart belonged to another and I have no more hold over it. Is it even right that now within two weeks of breakup I'd fall for my work partner whom I've been bickering with for the past few years? Won't it be frowned upon? What would my friends say? What would our colleagues think? Would they think that it's actually Chloe who came into my relationship with Jesse? Would they think that she's the third party? Oh my gosh, I would never allow that to happen. Not over my dead body. It's not her fault that I'm feeling such things. Wait, how about her? Does she feel anything for me? What if she thinks that she's just a rebound? Oh no, she's definitely not a rebound. I am definitely over Jesse, yes I am. Although it still hurts. But yes, Chloe is not a rebound. She's not. She's way more than that.

"You're more than that."

"What?"

Damned it - I've been talking aloud again. I hope she didn't hear the earlier par- Wait a minute, she's not a rebound? My feelings are real, then? I really do love her?  **Oh**. I turn back to her; her tears have dried up but her eyes are still searching mine out. She wants answers which I'm not sure if I could give. How could I – when I'm not even certain myself? I shake my head to rid the thoughts before grabbing the fork and the spoon off her tray. I cut up the food and place them neatly atop the spoon.

"Come, eat your breakfast."

"Beca."

"It's getting cold."

"Beca."

"Stop talking and take the food!"

"Beca!" I jolt at the sheer volume of her voice, causing the stacked food to spill from the spoon. It lands messily on her shorts but the redhead ignores it. Her eyes steeled on mine, rendering me frozen. I try to move my limbs, to leave the couch but I can't. It's as if I've been glued down. I can't even pry my eyes away.

_Chloe Beale, what on earth have you done to me?_

I jump slightly when I feel her warm lips on mine. She presses in, sticking her tongue out and running it along my lower lip. I part my lips involuntarily, letting her to come in. Our tongues battle for dominance while our teeth clash against each other. She smiles into my lips and breaks the contact.

"Are you letting me win, Mitchell?" She asks breathily, her lips curling to form a grin. Our arms are still wrapped around each other as we breathe hard to catch up with the pace of our hearts. I return the grin and leans in, feeling her breath hitch as my lips ghost over hers; my voice barely a whisper.

"Always."


	8. the one with all the talks

The scorching sun hangs stoically in the sky, bearing down on us with its heat, as if it's displaying its anger and unhappiness with the human race for trampling on Earth's resources. In such weather, I'd wanted to scream at that burning piece of star, telling her that I am pro going green – that I have no part in contributing to the greenhouse gases.

But of course she'd ignored me.

Much like how Chloe ignores me whenever I remind her to take her medication. It's always a negotiation game between the two of us. Stacie sure has it easy because one word from her and Aubrey would obey like a puppy with its tail between its legs. Which is shocking because the blonde was never this submissive ever. Seems like she's met her match – or overmatch.

"Becaaaa. Where's my milk?"

"Coming. You know you're supposed to take your pills in a bit, right?"

I walk into our bedroom with a glass of warm milk in tow. Ever since that day, we'd decided to buy and share a king size bed to fit into my current room whilst turning what's supposed to be Chloe's room into our study/studio. It's amazing how fast we got it done with Aubrey's and Stacie's help. Actually, more of Aubrey – her girlfriend and Chloe simply helped chose the colors and some furniture but it was Aubrey the big-time lawyer who barked down the necks of those poor workers. In any case, it seems to work out pretty well and everyone's pleased – including Ms Dean, since we are able and allowed to work from home. It's not that Chloe couldn't head out and back to the office; we are really worried that her relapse may occur again. Dr Brun has warned us to take every precaution for her safety and I'm not about to take any chance.

I hand the glass over, careful not to spill any on her favorite sheets before tuning down the thermostat on the air-conditioning. I'm about to turn back to my girlfriend when a piece of fabric lands atop my head, blinding me. One whiff at the clothing and I  **know**  immediately what's coming up.

"Oh Becaa..."

With my hands on my hips, I refuse to give in to temptation. "Nah uh. Not when you haven't taken your pills, Chlo." I feel around with my arms outstretched in midair, trying to navigate my way out of the room to get her medicine without taking the fabric off my head. I know I can't see her like this. I would give. I would  **definitely**  give in.

"I'm going to throw more clothes at you if you don't come back now, Becs!"

"In a second! I'm fetching your meds!"

"No, I don't want to have them. The pills are so bitter and chalky!" I return with the capsules and white tablets, along with a warm water bottle. I steel my eyes on hers, trying not to roam down south. She pouts even harder and snuggles into my shoulder when I plop down on the bed next to her.

"Come on, baby; it's for your own good. Please do it for me?"

"No... I don't feel like it."

"Chloe Anne Beale."

"Don't middle name me!" She has now turned her cheeks away from me, her pout gone and replaced with a scowl. I sigh and inch my way over, taking it as a good sign when she doesn't move away from me.

"I'm sorry I middle-named you. Tell you what, if you have the pills now, I'd do anything you want." Her ears perk – they literally twitch at my words but she remains in that position with her arms crossed. I lean into her ear, letting my breath fill her ear cavity, "Anything you want. If you want me to be Alex Vause, I'll be Alex Vause and you can be my Piper – only, you'll be better than that blonde..."

I smirk when she spins around to grab the medicine and the water bottle, gulping down the pills in one single mouthful. I didn't know she's that big a fan of the prison drama. The redhead takes another gulp of water, guzzling it in her mouth before swallowing the liquid. She then wipes her lips against the back of her hand before turning to face me; her eyebrows raised in expectancy.

"Promise me you won't use this against me next time," she whispers, pulling me under the sheets with her. I can feel her legs tangling with mine as she tugs at my shirt.

"It depends on whether you're a good girl, Chlo."

"Hmm. Fair enough. Well, then promise me..."

"What?" She smiles slyly before leaning into my ear, biting down on the lobe and sending shivers right through my spine.

"I want to see you come in with my meds next time dressed as Dr Newt Geiszler."

"The Kaiju groupie? Why? Why do you want to torture me like-" She bites down on my lower lip and tugs at it with her teeth, making a low growl.

All yours, Chloe Beale – all yours.

* * *

Aubrey looks up the moment I step into her office, her knitted brows relaxing the moment she realizes it's me and not her coworkers. Imagine her face when she sees the lunch bags I hold in my hands.

"Stacie sent you here?" Her first words of the day to me as the power-suited blonde lurches forward to grab at the brown paper bags. "No, it can't be. She knows I hate apples."

Right. How can I forget that? Oh wait, Chloe's the one who loves apple. Okay, note to self, Mitchell. I ignore her pout, choosing to plant myself down on her couch with my Mocha Frappucino. Her office is nice and big with a great view of the skyline - pretty airy for such a tense working environment. I haven't seen Aubrey in a less anxiety-filled place since we graduated from college. She was immediately whisked off to one of the top attorney firms in the city with a brand new Toyoto Prius as one of the perks. No wonder my Dad wants me in one of those jobs. But comparing what I'm doing now to having perks and being cooped up with stacks of papers whilst fighting cases for clients who might just be the real culprits?

Nope.

(Although Aubrey always makes sure she's fighting for the innocent ones.)

"What are you doing here, B?" She asks, her mouth full with food that threaten to be spat out. I shift a little to my right just in case.

"Well, I'm due for an appointment with Dr Burke later and I don't have a lunch partner."

The blonde stops her chowing and peers up at me, her hazel-green eyes glinting in the midday sun that has somehow peeked through her bamboo blinds. I bite down on my cheeks to stop myself from laughing at the sight of her with a strand of noodle left on her chin. If only I've my camera ready. She must be starving.

"Where's Chloe?"

"Oh, her sister is in town with her and they've gone to the hospital for her routine checkup. Seriously, Posen. Use a napkin." I point at my own chin and jerk my head in her direction.

"Ugh, thanks. Anyways, Claire's in town? That's so awesome! Does Stacie know? We  **must**  invite her for dinner! I love that woman!"

"Okay I'll have Stacie know that Claire's invited to dinner," I fish my pocket for my phone, "and that you are in love with her."

Suffice to say, I finished lunch with a huge bump on my forehead. That blonde is sure feisty when she's hungry. Aubrey packs up her coffee table and walks out to throw away the leftovers. It is only then that I realize she has a TV set in her office – like a 50" HD TV screen mounted on this decorated wall (must be Stacie's handiwork) along with many black-framed photographs of her and Stacie, her family, her dogs back in her hometown, and... That's all.

"Hey! Where are my photographs!" Aubrey returns with two cups of coffee, looking puzzled at my sudden tiny outburst.

"Okay chill it, Mitchell. Yours are-"

"You even have Chloe's up there!" I'm starting to well up; my nose getting itchy and blocked. Oh my gosh, that redhead has broke me.

I watch the blonde close her eyes as she tries to recollect herself. Or at least that's what I thought before she bursts out in guffaws. I frown, not understanding the turn of events.

"You're my best friend..." My voice meek and soft in light of her boisterous amusement.

"I'm sorry. Oh my gosh I'm in tears. You're right – you are my best friend but I can explain the photographs-" she catches my glare, "and why I'm laughing so hard. First, the photographs are with the printers – they blotched the work earlier so I sent them back for reprint. Second, you just whined! Beca Mitchell whining over a couple of photographs!"

"Well, you would whine too if you live with one." I mumble, my head bowed low. Oh wow, she has hardwood flooring as well. Unlike most offices which have theirs carpeted and those always stink like old feet.

"Live with what?" Uh oh.

The tall brunette saunters into the office, closing the door behind her with slight force. She levels me with a glare before bending down to receive a kiss from her girlfriend. Aubrey's looking all puppy-eyed as she watches her girlfriend taking off her blazer before proceeding to sit in her lap.

"You guys are so sweet." I coo, taking a sip on my coffee and cringing when I realize I'd forgotten to add sugar.

"Don't change the subject, Mitchell even though it's true. What were you guys talking about before I came in?"

The blonde smirks at my sudden incompetency to speak and proceeds to inform her girlfriend of Claire's arrival. Stacie lights up just like Aubrey did, which only makes me more curious about this Claire person. Who else can be more perfect than my girlfriend?

"What's with the scowl, Mitchell?" The blonde quips, her hand reaching up to massage Stacie's neck.

"I don't know... You guys are talking about Chloe's sister like she's a goddess. I mean, I haven't met her- I mean I had, but I haven't exactly sat down to talk to her and... I mean Chloe's perfect, you know? I'm just not comfortable knowing that there's someone else who might be better or something and I want you guys to stop talking about Claire like that because it should be Chloe who should be in that place and-"

Aubrey reaches forward and covers my mouth with her hand. My eyes grow wider when she doesn't remove the offending limb immediately. Oh dear. This is the part where they murder me for speaking bad of their goddess. Stacie stares at me with an indifferent expression. She doesn't look angry (which is a good thing) but she doesn't look particularly happy. I should ask Chloe if she's sure that Stacie's her best friend.

"You really like Chloe, don't you?" The brunette speaks up after what seems to be a thousand years. I dart my eyes between the two who have been staring at me for the past eternity and nod the best I could with Aubrey's hand still on my lips. Come to think of it, her hand smells nice. I wonder what's the brand of the hand-wash she's using. I think the redhead will like this scent.

Stacie's lips part slightly at my action and turns to look at her girlfriend. Aubrey looks slightly bewildered; she removes her hand and I quickly rub at my upper lip to rid the built-up moisture. I watch as Stacie whispers something into Aubrey's ears who nods and promptly leave the office. So now it's just two brunettes in the blonde's office.

"Beca," Stacie's stern voice breaks my daze and I peer up at her. Her hazel eyes are steeled on mine, as if searching for something in particular. After a few moments, she seems to give up, letting a somewhat loud exhale. I can almost smell the fish & chips lunch she's just had. "Listen – this is where I come in as Chloe's best friend okay? It's mandatory that best friends give the respective partners the BFF talk. So, given my position, here I am."

"Really? But I haven't talked to you-"

"Yes and that's where you'd failed as Aubrey's BFF but don't worry, I've covered up for you."

"You did? Ho-"

"I told her that you're fearsome and I will totally treat her like a queen after your talk."

"Did you at least make me sound badass?"

Stacie rolls her eyes, "Yes. Can we get back to Chloe now?" I nod, pulling my knees together with my shoulders slumped so that I would appear small and Stacie would go easier on me.

"Mitchell. As her BFF, I would not tolerate having her heart given to you and then returned to her in pieces. Her heart, Mitchell, is the world's most sacred treasure – a piece of crimson gem that you must guard with your entire being! I don't care how you do it, but you must promise to love her with every piece of your fiber. Hold her when she's broken and be the glue for her. Be there to laugh with her and be the one to make her laugh the hardest. If you make her cry over the wrong reasons, Mitchell – I swear I will tear you apart and frame you up in Aubrey's office."

"She.. told you about the photographs?"

"No but I've figured it out when I found them missing last week. You're not that hard to understand, Beca. You're an onion and whilst most people are afraid of being stung to tears by you, I've already reached your core. This means I know where your weak points are, Beca and I know how to make full use of them. Break Chloe's heart and I'll break yours. You understand me, Mitchell?" Her voice suddenly increases in decibels at the last few words, shaking me up.

I try to speak, forming unintelligible sounds. So I settle for nodding furiously. The brunette has even typed out an official document and makes sure that I sign on it in ink and thumbprint. She meant business. Aubrey enters the room in that moment, smiling as she retrieves the signed and dated document from her girlfriend before keeping it in her safe. I think I spied a piece of red lacy fabric amongst the small stack of documents in that armored box. I quirk an eyebrow at my best friend and she blushes.

"So," she claps her hands in a bid to rid the embarrassment in the air, "dinner tonight with the Beales and us, Becs?"

"Yeah, I guess. I hope Claire won't make me go through what Stacie's just put me through." I stand up, dusting my butt to rid the wrinkles on my pants, ready to leave for my appointment.

Stacie chokes on her water, wiping her lips with her sleeve, "Right. She won't." I smile, happy to know I'm safe tonight as I make my way to the door.

"Because she's going to be worse than me. You're Chloe's first – you know?"

I freeze in the doorway for a while before fishing out my phone as I walk out of Aubrey's office, dialing Chloe's number. I heave a sigh of relief when I reach her voicemail instead.

_Baby? This is Beca. I just want you to know that I really love you and in case I don't survive your big sister's speech tonight, please do remember that. Okay, love you forever munchkin. Bubbye."_

* * *

"Alright, Beca. I think we're done now."

I nod, "When's the next session, Dr Burke? I'd need to rearrange my schedule so that someone would-"

"Oh there's no need. From what you've told me in this session, it seems like you're right on track with your sleep management. No more talking in your sleep? And the micro-sleep thing is getting less. These are good signs, Beca. Well done. Do head over to the pharmacist to get more of the medication though, just in case. We'd want to make sure you are fully covered, won't we?"

I smile brightly as I rise to leave the room. Somehow, it feels like a huge burden is off my shoulders – not having this micro-sleep problem hassling me these past few weeks. It's weird though – both Jesse and Chloe would wear me down at night and leave me with little rest, although Chloe more than Jesse. Can't really blame the man, could I? (Looks down at my crotch). Anyways, I really feel good about this one. Every morning I'd wake up feeling extremely refreshed despite our nightly activities. For someone who has something growing in her head, Chloe sure is one ball of energy. It's like, every step I take has a bounce to it. Aubrey's noticed before and pointed it out one day whilst Stacie and Chloe were busy dressing each other in our room. We may still be in our first month but everything feels so right.

_Too right, actually._

"Beca, right?" An unfamiliar voice booms behind me, making me spin around. I gulp as I take in the sight of the beauty in front of me.

"Ch-Chl-Chloe? Whe-When did you become older? Have I fallen asleep for a few years?"

She chuckles, walking up in step with me and leans with her elbows against the stone parapet. I watch her inhale deeply, her features visibly relaxing even more at the burst of fresh air into her system. Aubrey and I were lucky when we managed to get accommodation in this building. It has the right views of the city – the skyline of the downtown right in front, and the view of the harbor and the beach to our right, albeit a little further away. It is also a peaceful neighborhood, hardly any crime around except for some ill-behaved children who like to throw rotten fruits at each other on the street. Aubrey's screeched at them before for ruining her Prius' paintwork with a couple of tomatoes.

"How long have you known my sister?"

"A couple of years actually. I was in Dean's List for a year before she joined us two years back. We're on the same team together."

"I see. How did you find her?"

"Initially?" She nods, her emerald green eyes twinkling like rare stars above. "Uh, well. Not very good actually. She was... She kind of ruined one of my most important projects when we first met. I wasn't very pleased... Anyway, she did apologize but the younger and immature me refused to acknowledge that. I mean it's my fault as well but. Anyway, since then we've been on the bickering side. It's funny how our boss still paired us up despite our endless fights and quarrels."

"Maybe she knows what was coming."

"Nah. I think she's just really into S&M." Claire's laughter is louder now, swiping at my arm lightly. "Anyway, I didn't notice her much – at least not in that way because I was with my ex boyfriend, Jesse. Then about three weeks back, I found him snogging my best friend Benji. Of course that friendship went out the window as well."

"You've forgiven them?"

"I guess. I don't really feel much pain and anger anymore, just the kind of... painful nostalgia. We unearthed this scrapbook that I was making for him for our 7th anniversary, you know? I did cry, Aubrey was there. And then it's over."

"Well, it  **has**  been 7 long years. Anyone would feel the longing and reluctance to part."

I nod sadly, memories slowly creeping into the back of my mind. I shake them off and return my gaze to her. Besides the color of their eyes, the Beale sisters look exactly alike. Auburn locks that fall naturally on their shoulders, along with brilliantly-colored eyes that shine brighter than any star. They have the same nose and their complexion is great too, if not for the few freckles here and there but to me, it's perfect. Chloe would always giggle when I pretend to kiss those tiny brown specks away.

"Beca? Beca." I jump slightly at the hand waving in front of my face. "What are you thinking of? Chloe?"

I blush, rubbing the back of my head awkwardly and pushing my glasses up my nose. "Yeah. She makes the most adorable sounds."

"Please don't start rambling off about your bed activities, Beca. Anyway, so what happened next?"

"Well," I unfold two bamboo chairs and motion for her to sit, "After the breakup, she was there constantly. I'd tell you, your sister is one feisty one. She's scared poor Benji away. Then, our boss threw us some projects and there's this particularly demanding one. I'd say we really bonded over that one. We got closer and honestly speaking, I'm surprised how much she knows about me, and understands me. I, myself, am shocked at how much I started to notice about her too. It's scary because-"

"You just got out of a long term relationship?"

I nod again, exhaling slightly as that nagging feeling of guilty starts to creep back into my heart. "I feel guilty, actually. I know Jesse jumped the gun already, but if I do the same won't I be like him? I don't want to be like that. I want to be able to love Chloe with all my heart and-"

My words got cut off as Claire suddenly reaches over to pull me into a tight embrace. Unlike Chloe, this woman smells of floral. She holds me right there for a few long moments, only letting go when she feels my heart slowly down to a steady beat. She holds my head in place with both hands, her eyes steeled on mine.

"Do you love Chloe?" Nod. "Are you and Jesse already over?" Affirmative nod. "And Chloe's not a rebound?" Furious nod. "Then it's perfectly fine. You're worrying too much, Beca. It's perfectly okay for you to fall in love again, alright?"

"It's not too soon?"

"Falling in love is a process that doesn't acknowledge the presence of time, my dear. It doesn't recognize gender, nor the skin color, nor the age, nor the place..." She says quietly, her voice trailing off slightly. "You know, Chloe – that silly sister of mine, she's been this cheery person since young. Not even the stupid tumor could get her down, you know? She's all like, well I took one down already, I'm sure this second one would be a-okay."

We both laugh at that memory. When I picked up the redhead and her sister from the hospital earlier, they greeted me with a somewhat grim report of her health – the tumor is still increasing in size. The redhead has simply brushed it off with a big grin, her eyes twinkle with hope and love as she watched me pull the Mini out from its parking lot.

"But there's the one time she let go of that chirpy facade, Beca – that  **one**  time. She'd called me in the middle of the night sobbing inconsolably. There's nothing I could say or do to make her feel better. You want to know what she said?"

I nod with a frown, wondering why the redhead's never mentioned that to me before.

Claire takes a deep breath and exhales, "She said that someone she loves has just gotten their heart broken. She wanted to help them but she didn't know how."

"She was in love with someone?" Claire nods wistfully as she recalls that scene. "But Stacie said I was her first... Oh."

"That phone call was made around three weeks ago, Beca. When I first picked up the phone and heard her cries, my mind immediately went haywire. I thought it was the illness. No, it's not. That silly girl, she said she wasn't on good terms with you. On one hand she's really worked up to see you that upset, on the other – she's breaking down with guilt for feeling even a tiny bit happy over your situation because now, she has a chance right?"

I think my heart's just broke a little over that revelation.

"I'm a complete asshole to her, Claire. What was I thinking?"

"Well, she still fell heads over heels for you, hasn't she? Don't beat yourself up so much, Beca. Right now, she really needs your love and support." I nod, reaching over my hand to grab Claire's, squeezing it tightly.

"I will. I promise."

"Hey what are you two lovebirds talking about? Dinner's ready." Both of us look up with smiles plastered on our faces at the sight of the redhead in front of us. She beams happily at our linked hands before latching her lips onto mine.

Claire makes a gagging noise and gets up from her seat, "I'll just see you both inside. Mitchell, remember our talk, alright? Don't make me come after you."

I wave a mock salute at the departing figure, my lips still pressed into Chloe's.

"So, you had the talk with my big sister." She coos, pulling away from us to catch up her breathing. I nod, wrapping my arms around her as I pull her closer to me. She giggles, pushing and holding me at arm's length, her hands gripping my shoulders for support. "It's a long talk, Mitchell. I missed you."

"Aww... You do?"

"Yeah. And I heard you had a talk with Stacie as well?"

"No,  **she**  had the talk with me. It's all her."

"So you promised you won't ever break my heart?" I shake my head, my lips curling upwards to mirror her growing grin. She leans in, her lips ghosting over mine. "And you promised you would love me?"

"Forever."

* * *

Stacie, Claire and Chloe are chatting animatedly after dinner in the living room over whom they thought should be the ideal actress for Wonder Woman. Names of celebrities – legit ones and some that erred on being absurd, are thrown into the mix. Aubrey shakes her head at her girlfriend as she whines against Chloe who insists that Gemma Arteton should be the one.

"No! Gina Carano should be Wonder Woman. She's already with Superman!"

"But Wonder Woman got together with Batman!"

I smirk as I return my attention to the dishes in front of me. I pick up the rag and start to wipe the wet plates clean. I steal a glance up at my blonde friend, realizing that she's also looking down at me. She then turns the tap off and fling the water from her hands, wiping them on the cloth hanging from the cabinet.

"Come with me, we haven't really talked ever since Chloe's moved in."

"Why, are you jealous?" I quip, receiving a light punch in my shoulder as a response.

We both settle down comfortably on the beanbags in my studio – music from my latest mix playing softly in the background. We remain silent for a while, just sitting in each other's presence. Our gaze never left each other's. Sometimes, we could communicate wordlessly – a look or a small action here and there and the other party would immediately understand. Right now, I sense that she wants to talk about Chloe and I, and I know what she has on her mind.

"Don't worry, Aubs. I've already thought it through."

"You have?" I nod. "And you've already discussed it with Chloe?"

Oh, that I haven't.

"Beca, I know you guys are hot for each other right now but what will happen in the future? Have you thought about the many possibilities? You could end up-"

"Don't complete that sentence, Posen." My heart suddenly picks up pace and my breathing starts to labor. "I know she's it for me; I know I'll be there till the end. It may sound cheesy or lame, but I don't care."

"Beca. It's one thing to fall in love, it's another to keep at it. Falling in love and loving someone are two different things. They may work hand in hand but ultimately the second one is the one that has to endure the test of time. And all the obstacles. It's only the beginning for both of you and there's already this huge rock. Her report came back today-"

"I know perfectly well what the report said, Brey. Anyway, aren't you the one who kept pushing me to realize my feelings for her?"

"Yes, I was. But I didn't realize till this evening how real the reality is that she may be gone just like that. I just don't want you to have to pick up the aftermath again. I will definitely be there for you, B but... I really rather you not have to go through the pain."

"She's worth the pain, Brey. And she  **will**  get better."

"Oh you're such a weirdo." She whispers, tears flowing down her cheeks as she pulls me into her arms. "I just hope you know what you're getting into, B."

* * *

When we finally calmed down from the emotional heart to heart talk, I made my best friend promise me that she won't ever let out any part of our conversation – not even to her beloved. Stacie jumps right at her girlfriend the moment we exit the studio. Claire and Chloe laugh hard as the two of them stumble backwards and fall into a heap on the floor. They don't seem to mind though, making out right there and then. I roll my eyes skyward as I make my way to my redhead.

"So, who's the winner?" Claire shrugs, her eyes fixed on the intimidating figure of The Hulk as he smashed through S.H.I.E.L.D.

I open my arm to let Chloe snuggle into my side; she presses her lips into my cheek before focusing on playing with our fingers.

"Well, we couldn't decide on Wonder Woman. I still stand my ground on Arteton though." I nod, gesturing for her to continue. "So we switched over to the Flash."

"Ooh. Chris Evans!" My redhead shakes her head, her face forming a sad pout.

"Nope. He's already Captain America  **and**  Human Torch, plus he looks too serious."

"I know, Ryan Reynolds!"

She flashes me her sad puppy eyes, "He's Green Lantern. So, in the end we agreed with a secret handshake that Chris Pine should be the one." I rub my chin with my free hand, trying to picture the Startrek star in red spandex.

"That could work."

"Hey guys!" Stacie's voice rings out, gaining our attention. "We have news." She says in a bright voice as both she and Aubrey settle down in the love seat next to us. Claire looks up from her place on the Eames chair, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

Aubrey claps her hands together, throwing a quick glance at her beloved before turning back to us. "So, we have decided on the wedding day. It'll be at the end of the year in December. I know, it'll be cold out but we'd really love a white wedding."

"Aren't your bridal suits gonna be white enough, Posen?" Everyone laughs, including the usually stern Aubrey. I like that Stacie has managed to break down her walls and let the relaxed fuzzball out.

"Hardy ha ha, Mitchell. Wait till it's your wedding." I smile nervously as I turn to look at the redhead. She's smiling brightly as well, her cerulean eyes searching mine out. Well, at least she doesn't seem opposed to the idea. We can get married.  _Wait, what?_

"Anyway," Stacie chimes in, leaning forward so that her butt is perched on the edge of the seat, "we would really love it if both of you are involved as our-"

Chloe lets out a loud squeal as she jumps onto Stacie, engulfing her in a suffocating hug. Aubrey and I cast weird looks at the pair, Claire frowns in response. What just happened?

"Oh! Yes, we would of course love to be your Maids of Honor! You don't even have to ask!"

Aubrey breathes out nervously, tapping on the redhead's shoulder, "Yeah, we know. That's why you guys are  **already**  our Maids of Honor. It's a given. However, we would really love it if you guys are our official  **wedding planners** as well, since it's what you guys are great at."

"What?" Chloe and I utter at the same time.

"Yeah, you guys know perfectly our likes and dislikes. It'll be great! So what about it?"

I gape at her words and dart my eyes at my best friend. The great Aubrey Posen wants us to plan her wedding? She wants us to be in charge?

"Are you for real, Aubs?"

The blonde nods happily, her hand linked with Stacie's. "As long as it's what she wants, I'm fine with it."

The three of us make choking noises as the couple starts making out again. Claire smiles and hoots her congrats at the couple before turning to unmute the TV. I lean back into the couch with my arm secured over Chloe's shoulders, watching as she banters back and forth with her sister. There would be the occasional quips about the film that would send us rolling in mad laughter, and the occasional sighs from Chloe when the Avengers shared an emotional scene.

This is what I want.

_Really?_

I close my eyes as Aubrey's words nagged at the back of my head, drowning out the laughter around me.


	9. fears and anchors

"Come in."

With shivering hands on the metal knob, I lean against the heavy door and push it open using my entire weight. The brunette looks up from behind his desk, his glasses perched near the tip of his nose. I greet him with a nod, pressing the door close behind me. No one says anything for a minute as I survey my new surrounding. His desk is messy as expected; a plastic model of human anatomy stood inside one of his glass cabinets – the rest filled with books and stacks of documents. The sound of him clearing his throat makes me wheel around and he motions towards one of the chairs in front of me.

"Have a seat."

I do as told, pulling the chair towards me and settling down in its lush cushioning. Must be one of his tactics to calm his visitors (most likely grief-stricken relatives or the patients themselves) down. I watch him take a long drink from his cup – must be black coffee, his eyes steeled on mine.

My heart rate picks up as I deliberate my words, my intentions for my visit. I knew I screwed up the telephone call earlier, my voice all messed up and shaken as I tried to put into spoken language the vague need to see him in person. Despite his initial reluctance, Dr Brun finally gave the green light and offered me a slice of his time.

"What do you want, Beca?"

His voice doesn't betray any emotion of sorts. He remains professional, having placed his papers down on the table and crossing his arms in front of his chest as he awaits my reply. I take a quick peek at the documents and realizes that he's currently doing research on Chloe's thing. I refuse to call it  _illness_ or  _sickness_  or worse,  _disease._  I refuse to. It's not needed; it's unnecessary.

"I- I-" Breathe, Beca, breathe! "I want to know if she's going to be okay."

Something flashes across his eyes at my words. I freeze in my seat, afraid to know the answer even though it's killing me inside to find out the truth. He lets go a deep, pronounced sigh as he rolls his head back – his eyes trained on the ceiling.

"Chloe's been with me for the past few years. She's... Her case is unique." His head rolls back to face me as he leans forward and rests his elbows against the desk. "She isn't diagnosed with TSC until when she's in her sophomore. Patients with that illness tend to have problem carrying out mental functions and they are burdened with episodes of epilepsy. Some get it in their skin, lungs or kidneys. Chloe, she didn't have those and we didn't know until one day during a routine body check when her MRI scans came back with signs of a large benign tumor located in her left brain."

Dr Brun pauses and walks over to a small table by the window, pouring two glasses of water. He hands one over to me and asks me to drink. I do as told, parting my lips to latch over the rim of the glass. It is then that I realize how dry my lips are.

"Should I continue? You look as pale as sheet." I place the empty glass down on his desk with a thud, nodding for him to continue.

I'm not sure why but somehow nobody has ever told me about Chloe's thing in this much detail. Aubrey for one has her mouth ordered zipped by Stacie. The brunette herself has advised me to approach my girlfriend; my girlfriend has bursted into tears even before I'd popped the question. I guess I'd always choose the wrong timings to ask her – when Noah kissed Allie in the rain, when Pat implored Tiffany to stay with him and apologized for not catching up with her quickly enough, when Kat read her poem in class, when Satine died in Christian's arms... The list is  **that**  long because I'm the dork who loves asking her girlfriend the worse questions during all the saddest scenes in film history.

I wonder what she's doing now with Stacie and Aubrey.

Dr Brun clears his throat again, a small smile playing on his lips. I blush having been caught in a daze and straighten up myself, nodding again to indicate that I'm ready.

"Anyway, because we found that little ball early enough," I squirm at his word choice, "we're able to remove it successfully via the knife. Everything seems fine – none of the expected symptoms of TSC happen on her. We're all happy but also ready for anything. I guess as much as we wanted to deter it, a second tumor – a bigger one, is found 7 years later."

"And you can't remove it this time."

He shakes his head, his ash brown curls bouncing off his forehead as he closes his eyes and pinches his nose. The poor man must be exhausted. I take a quick glance around his desk and notice for the first time the few empty coffee cups lying around.

"It's too big and..." His voice trails off as we both watch the drops of tears fall and splash against my hands. My breathing is labored as I try hard to contain the rising emotions churning within me. His hands, his big and warm hands cup my shoulders and he gently shake me a little. I turn slightly to look up at him, my vision quickly getting blurry as tears flood my eyes. "Beca..."

"Why? Why must it be her?"

* * *

" _Happy birthday, Red! Woah, it's your day and **you're**  giving out chocolates?" Fat Amy gushed as she waved her own giant Toblerone bar in the air, her face almost triumphant._

_Chloe smirked as she turned to pass another Toblerone bar to Luke who made a face at Fat Amy – the Australian's previous air of smugness deflated a little._

" _Yeah well, it's always nice to be giving than taking things every year, you know?"_

_I rolled my eyes at her words. Yeah sure, truth well told by Little Miss Kiss-ass. Chloe spun around and leveled at me; her eyes flashing somewhat dangerously. Did I say that out loud? Thankfully her special day had a positive effect on her, neutralizing whatever arrows I've shot at her the entire day. Fat Amy surveyed the scene around her – our colleagues had huge grins plastered on their faces as they tore open the candy bar, savoring every chocolaty bite. She frowned when she saw both my hands and my desk empty._

" _Hey Red, how about Short Stuff? I know you guys are like **enemies**  but," she called, making quotation marks in the air, "like you said, giving is-"_

" _M_ _y dearest partner should check her drawer, shouldn't she?" The redhead retorted, settling down back at her own desk. Fat Amy leaned over, her neck reaching its limits as she peered into the drawer that I just pulled open. Sure enough, sitting atop the mess that was my drawer was a mini hamper of chocolates – not just Toblerones, but also Godiva, Neuhaus, Puccini, Teuscher, Vosges, Jacques Torres, and Valrhona._

_My favorites._

_The blonde made a quick search on the floor for her jaw, wiping her chin clean of drool as she took in the sight of the hamper. Now **that's**  one sad and defeated look._

" _Not fair, Beale! How come Beca gets all these good stuff?"_

_I scoffed and rolled my eyes, stealing a glance at the clock. My phone then started to buzz with an incoming call and Jesse's name flashed impatiently on the screen. All three pairs of eyes are glued to the device as I picked it up with nonchalance, flipping my hair behind me._

" _Hey baby. Yeah, I know. I'll be right downstairs. Benji's coming along? Great! Alright, see you in a bit." I pushed my chair under the seat and slugged my bag over my shoulder. "Bye Fat Amy, enjoy your Toblerone!"_

" _Hey, what about your hamper!"_

_I waved a hand behind me as I strode towards the exit, ignoring the obvious feeling of those bright blue eyes burning into the back of my skull._

" _You can have them!"_

* * *

Dr Brun has returned to his seat, his eyes flitting through the pages as he flips open Chloe's files. I dig around my pocket and fish out a white plastic bottle, rattling it in the air. He quirks his eyebrows at me, waiting for me to speak.

"How long more must she take these? She's starting to feel more and more tired each day, Doc. And she's having these headaches and they're getting more frequent!"

He sighs, rubbing against his temples. "Beca. Those are the side effects-"

"I know! Isn't there a better way?"

"All we can do now is to bid our time, Beca. Wait for her tumor to reduce in size  **with help from the medication** ," he emphasizes the last few words, seeing that my mouth has parted and ready with retort, "and then we can come in and remove it."

"Any risk involved? Is there nothing else I can do for her?"

The brunette shakes his head in resignation. I probably worked his emotions up to the point of defeat. He sighs and peers at me, his steel-gray eyes boring into mine. "Everything we do, Beca, has a risk. Well, the medical community is currently still doing extensive research on this TSC and SEGA. A few conferences are coming up, actually. They'd usually announce the latest technology that could fix it – I don't know. I'm planning to attend them myself."

I perk up at his words, leaning forward and urging him to give me all the details about these meetings with balding doctors in some air-conditioned hall. My heart leaps around my chest as a glimmer of light shines into this seemingly dark and endless dwelling at the back of my mind.

There's hope; there is hope, Chloe.

* * *

I approach Aubrey's apartment with my feet feeling lighter than before. I'd bet the girls would be elated to find out about these conferences. Heck, we can even make it a fun road trip or even go visit good ol' Barden since these meetings are all held in Atlanta. With a huge grin on my face, I turn the knob and push the door open, cringing immediately as Stacie's shrill voice escapes through the gap.

"What do you mean you want blue roses for our centerpiece?! You know I hate those flowers! I want pink carnations!"

"No dear, I am allergic to carnations, remember?"

"No, you're not. I know – you want to back out from this wedding, don't you?" Stacie's voice breaking as she overwhelms with tears. Her hand flies up to her mouth, covering her cries as she slumps down into the couch. Her body shaking as sobs racked through her. Aubrey is by her side in a flash, rubbing her hand up and down the length of her back, whispering sweet-nothings and reassurances into her ear.

I shake my head at the couple, exhaling deeply as I survey their living room and the connecting kitchen. Chloe's not around. I walk past them to head into their bedroom – empty. Study? Empty.

Where is she?

"Chloe? Chloe!" My voice probably roused the couple as the two of them are now aiding in my search. Stacie pulls apart the comforters whilst Aubrey goes back to check on my apartment. I watch her leave before turning to the bathroom. Pressing my ears to the door panel, I can barely make out sounds of someone whimpering.

Chloe.

The door bursts open and both Stacie and I tower over a rapidly jerking body that is Chloe Beale. Pink foam is gushing out from her mouth and her eyes has turned rolled upwards, showing only the white parts. Stacie shoves me aside as she kneels down besides her best friend, trying to hold on to her hands. She takes a huge breath and jams her hand into Chloe's mouth, her face paling as the redhead bites down hard on her flesh. The redhead's hands have curled into claw-like fists as she continues to trash around. A small pool of blood has formed under her head, my girlfriend is fast losing consciousness.

"Beca! What are you doing? Quit standing there and call for help! Call 911!"

I quickly fish my pocket for my phone, cussing when I can't locate it.

"Use our phone! Quick!"

Aubrey has returned from my apartment and she freezes at the sight of the redhead. Stacie rolls her eyes and barks out some instructions, ordering her girlfriend to fetch bandages, clean cloths and a leather belt. Aubrey snaps back to work, hurriedly gathering the required items. Meanwhile, I've managed to get through to the hospital and Dr Brun said that an ambulance is on its way.

"Beca, calm down. You have to be here for her right now, alright? Remember what you've said to me before you left my office just now?" I nod, whimpering into the phone. "You can be strong for her, Beca. You can't let your fear overtake you, you understand? Now, tell me what is happening right now?"

"Au- Aub- Aubrey has just slotted in the belt into her mouth, sir and Stacie's hand is bleeding profusely. There's a lot of blood!"

"Calm down! Tell me what else is happening."

"Aubrey is trying to bandage Chloe's head and- and- Stacie is washing her hands-"

"Good, good, go on."

"Chloe... Chloe..." I let go of the phone as I run towards my redhead, holding her trashing body steady in my arms; my hands gripping on tightly to her t-shirt. With my drenched cheeks against her foam-stained lips, I watch as Aubrey and Stacie halt what they're doing as they turn to look at us. A soft melody slowly fills the bathroom – all that's left amongst the chaos are her soft whimpering and that voice.

_never knew I could feel like this / like I've never seen the sky before / want to vanish inside your kiss / every day I love you more / and more / listen to my heart / can you hear it sings / telling me to give you everything / seasons may change / winter to spring / but I love you / until the end of time_

* * *

"Hey short stuff."

I let myself smile as the blonde sits herself down next to me on the curbside. Amongst all our colleagues, she's the first one to respond, rushing down from her date without a second thought. It's nice to know that such human beings exist. I lean into her arms, stealing her heat as the air around us starts to drop in temperature. From where we're seated, we can see the sun sets behind the concrete sea of buildings and skyscrapers, lighting the skies in its fiery glow.

"Beautiful."

"It is, isn't it? So, your best mate just told me she's out of danger. Shouldn't that put a bigger smile on your face?" She frowns when I remain silent. She doesn't know that I can't speak any further than that one word; she doesn't understand how much strength I'd need – all that's left in me to hold back the tears so that I can be brave again when I see her later.

"It's okay," she whispers, running her hand through my hair. "It's okay to be scared, you know? I was scared once when my dad came home one day with blood running down his side. His entire forearm was missing, you know? I was 10 and I didn't know what to do so I started crying and he hushed me down. He's a brave man, my dad. He squatted down to my level and hugged me. The last words he said before he collapsed was I love you. And then I was no longer afraid. Because he loves me, and I love him."

I tilt my head to look at her, bewilderment probably written all over my face. She hugs me closer and laughs heartily.

"Oh come on, it's true. I guarantee that. He survived though, and we got a prosthetic for him. Now he's a trainer in the Tasmania Zoo."

"So Chloe loves me?"

"Of course, short stack." I frown, trying to recall the time when the redhead has said those three words to me. Not that it matters that much but it'll be nice to know, right? "You remember last year on her birthday?" I nod. "She gave you that hamper and all the rest of us got are bars of Toblerones!"

We laughed at that memory, hers louder than mine.

"Man, you were such a jerk though. The poor redhead looked as if someone's just slapped her across the face when you left for that gay boyfriend of yours."

"I am. I'm one huge d-"

"Beca! Chloe's awake. She wants you."

* * *

_Chloe and I were snuggling on the couch, our toes curled up under a huge, thick blanket as we fixed our eyes on the British romance comedy playing on the TV. The redhead leaned in impossibly close to me and whispered into my ear._

" _This is my favorite scene."_

" _This? This man with the placards and a bunch of christmas carols?"_

" _Yeah, don't you think it's super romantic?"_

" _It is but it's also sad, isn't it? He loves her but she loves his best friend..." My voice trailed off at the sight of the tears that rolled down her cheeks. I lifted my hand to her face and ran my thumb across that soft expanse of skin. She sniffed and leaned into my touch, rubbing her cheeks against my fingers._

" _I love you." I whispered, tilting her chin towards me. She tore her eyes away from the screen and focused on me. Our eyes met and she flashed me the widest smile ever._

_The lights were then switched off and the movie forgotten._

* * *

Chloe smiles weakly, pushing herself up the moment I step past the threshold into her ward. Stacie immediately grabs on to her, asking her to lie down and rest. She looks worse than the first time I saw her warded. Her face is white as sheet, drained of her usual colors; her cheeks sunken and shallower than before. Her cerulean eyes are no longer as bright; they still twinkle but they've lost their vibrancy.

I sniffle hard as I approach her bed, plopping down on the spot where I know she'd always want me to be. She smiles again as she tugs at me to lean in closer to her. We kiss each other on the lips and she motions for the rest to leave us alone.

"I'm sorry," her voice coarse and weak as the door closes behind the last visitor. "I don't mean to freak you out."

"Don't be silly."

Chloe sighs and lifts my arm over her shoulders. I'm used to this by now. Although I know she likes for me to wrap myself around her, I like it when she does it herself. She tilts her head at me, a blush climbing up her pale cheeks.

"I miss you." I whisper, wrapping my other arm around her waist, careful not to unplug or pull at the many tubes attached to her.

"I miss you too."

* * *

For the next two weeks, I've managed to arrange with the conference directors to have their meetings telecasted live via online so that both Chloe and I can sit in without having to travel to Atlanta. The redhead was reluctant at first, saying that she will survive this round just as she did the first. Eventually though, she's caved in and so now we're sitting on her hospital bed, her back lying against my front as we train our eyes on the flat-screen TV in front of us. Dr Brun has kindly connected the TV with the hospital's cable, allowing us live access to the nation's biggest TSC conference.

Talks after talks, various doctors, researchers and scientists have reported on their successes and/or failures in their experiments to create a complete cure for the thing. I frown as many of the medication listed have in themselves many side effects – situations where I do not want my baby to be in. I squeeze hard at her hand, wanting her to know that no matter what happens, I'm here with her.

My heart skips a beat when she squeezes back.

My Chloe's a brave girl.

* * *

Today's the 18th and Fat Amy has arranged with Dr Brun to have Chloe discharged for a day to attend the Greenes' wedding. Both she and Bumper have taken over the project; Ms Dean gave her understanding when I made the request to stay and devote my time to take care of the redhead in the hospital. Chloe grins and laughs as we enter the wedding hall at Le Plaz de L'amour. It is exactly how the Greenes have envisioned their wedding to be – traditional and classy. More than a hundred guests have turned up at the occasion; everyone with big smiles plastered on their faces as they greet and congratulate the couple on their golden anniversary.

We are allowed the second row from the front, seated amongst their relatives and loved ones. What an honor! I see Mrs Greene winking in my direction when her eyes land on both Chloe and I.  _I told you!_  She mouths, turning her attention back to the minister who is sinfully boring out the congregation. I let Chloe tap her fingers on my thigh as we wait for the couple to exchange their vows.

Sniffles can be heard around us as Mr Greene finishes his vows, placing a chaste kiss on his wife's forehead. We watch as the grey-haired lady smiles and reaches for her letter – her vows written on it in elaborate detail. Her first few sentences are touching right down to the soul. I am so glad and blessed to have known this kindly woman. She'd always make Chloe and I laugh whenever we visit her in the hospital as she piles on stories from her youth, enlightening us with words of wisdom and lifelong experiences.

I turn to look at my girlfriend seated beside me. She's too caught up in the moment to realize my staring at her. I watch with amazement at how much she'd recovered in the past week – colors returning to her face, her rosy cheeks slowly resuming their places; her eyes now vibrant and alive, twinkling with an unknown excitement. I find myself smiling as my eyes roam down from the convex of her forehead, down the curved valley of her nose bridge, and further down to her lips. My insides trashing around as she slowly parts her lips – her tongue sliding out to flick wet licks against the two soft muscles.

That's when I hear it.

The last thing I see is terror as it flashes through her eyes. Everything else that happens after is a mad, chaotic whirl.

* * *

"Chloe!" I shoot up in my bed, my tank top drenched and sticking to my skin. I pant hard and heavily, reaching over to the bedside table for my glasses.

Aubrey comes tumbling into my room, her eyes dazed and her hair heavily tousled as she searches around for signs of trouble, sighing in relief when she finds none.

"What the heck, Beca?" She chides, flicking on the lights. Her features soften when her eyes land on me.

"You having bad dreams again?"

I shiver, hugging my knees close to my chest. Dr Burke is back in my appointment book dating twice a week. Aubrey has to accompany me on these trips now and I know it's starting to wear her down. Why wouldn't it? The lawyer herself was about to gain partnership in her law firm when this chain of events happened. It's a miracle that she hasn't broken down yet, but we all know that the thread upon which she's holding on is thinning at its edge.

She's the only anchor Stacie and I have right now.

The brunette isn't doing well herself – one of her lab mice has gotten rabies and they had to close the lab down for cleaning and decontamination. Her wedding is forced to be put on hold and her relationship with Aubrey has become strained. Her eyes are swollen and puffy from all the nights of crying herself to sleep. No matter what Aubrey says or does, she just can't be consoled.

How could she, and how could I – when our soulmate and best friend has gone from us?

* * *

_It's funny how life is. One moment you're telling her your vows, the other you're saying your last goodbye. I stood outside the ward, my feet rooted to the cold marble ground watching the elderly Mr Greene shuffle his way towards his wife._

_Her face, totally drained of color and life, looked peaceful and still. Like she has no regrets in this life at all. I watched as he slowly retrieved a pair of handkerchief from his vest pocket, holding on to its tip as he bent over her face. His teardrops falling onto her cheeks as he wiped the imaginary dirt and dust off from her skin._

_I gazed down at the letter he'd passed me before entering the ward. My head lolled back as I took in huge gulps of air, trying to fight the screams mounting in me. But my walls were broken._

_I've no more song to hide behind._

/ / /

_Dear Rachel,_

_I've left a bar of white chocolate in your left breast pocket. Remember to eat it quickly when you reach heaven, my dear; don't let it go bad. It's your favorite._

_Forever yours,_

_John_

* * *

"I'm so sorry, Beca." I tighten and loosen my jaw as I lay my head down on her lap, listening to the sound of my teeth hitting against each other. Her fingers run through my hair releasing some of the tangles. I've waited for her "I told you so" but it never came. All she did was to make sure I'm fed, cleaned, and not suicidal.

"I'm just in a limbo." My own voice quiet and wistful – she could probably only make out the last syllable of each word. But she understood.

"I know, I know. You're brave, Beca. You're braver than I am." Her voice breaking as she finally caves in to her pent up emotions. I reach up to caress her face, feeling her warm tears flow down the back of my hand. I want to tell her that it's not true – I am not braver than she is. I want to thank her for being with me. I want her to know that she's my courage – my strength in the face of pain and grief. When she finally calms down enough - our eyes connecting, I realize:

_We are each other's anchor._

"Stacie's left. She said she needs some time off."

"She'll be back."

Uncertainty betrays her eyes. She shuts them close, recollecting herself. I know she's probably sieving through the memories she had with the brunette. I know she's just as afraid as I am.

"She's Stacie," I hear myself say, "she'll come back."

The blonde nods dolefully, parting her lips to speak when my phone buzzes alive. I shoot upright in the bed, my eyes freeze on the lit screen.

"Beca? I have great news. I'm in Atlanta now, and the last report just came in. There's hope, Beca!"


	10. she can't love her but she always will

Dr Brun whisks me and Aubrey away the moment we step onto hospital grounds. His eyes bright and glimmering with so much hope I feel a little bad inside. In the past week, the doctors at the convention have made a breakthrough discovery – that together with the recent medical report which revealed that the tumor in Chloe's brain has shrunk to a reasonable size.

We walk through the hospital park, Aubrey's and mine's eyes fixed on the ground as we listen intently to his explanations. The brunette is way out of character today; his arms are flailing everywhere – his voice pitched higher than before and livelier than ever. He sounds like a man who has just gotten a Yes from his girlfriend after proposing, or a father who has just seen his baby girl after a long labour. I can't help but get past my current emotional state to send a quick and amused glance Aubrey's way. The blonde herself has her lips pursed tightly, a rose red creeping up her cheeks for effort.

"So. I think we are en route to a surgery soon and I guarantee that it'll be successful! At least an 80%. On my name, Beca." The brunette halts his steps suddenly and turns on us. His beady eyes magnified at least once through those thick glasses of his. His eyebrows raised above his hairline as he eagerly awaits our response.

I turn to Aubrey who stands rooted and stunned to the ground next to me. Her lips parted and curled to reveal her perfectly aligned teeth – the expression she'd always wear when she wants to say something of the opposite effect in the nicest possible way. I knew I can't count on her for this.

"Chloe's gone."

"What?" I sigh, running my fingers through my hair and fisting a whole chunk of it as I deliberate my answer. As expected, his smile immediately falters, the light fading off from his face. "What do you mean, she's gone? Where did she go?"

"She took off after... After Mrs Greene's passing." Aubrey cuts in politely, reaching to grab my hand and holding it tight.

"And you guys have absolutely no idea where she went? Beca, Aubrey – this is serious." He tries to laugh, his eyes searching ours out, looking for signs of this possibly being part of some candid camera act. When we remain stoic and solemn, he finally realizes it's all true. "This could possibly change her life forever! You have to find her!"

"But Dr Brun-"

"No! I won't accept buts, Ms Mitchell! We have come too far and I am  **not**  giving up on my patient." His brows knit together and lines form on his forehead as he takes a step closer to us, his sight zoned in on mine, "Tell me, you're  **not**  giving up on her too."

Of course I'm not.

When Mrs Greene collapsed out of nowhere at the end of the vows, everything went crazy. Women were screaming and crying, men – possibly her sons were rushing towards her and crowding over her and Mr Greene, yelling her name and all sorts of numbers to the people standing nearby.

"Call the ambulance!" They shouted, their faces marred with tears. "Call for help! Somebody, please!"

When I finally got out of my own shock, I turned to my right where Chloe was and found no one. My hand was left bare and open; every trace of her vanished as if she was never even present at the wedding. I ran home from the hall, promising Mr Greene I'll be at the hospital later. When I bursted through our apartment, I stopped, holding my breath. Everything looked intact – she hasn't gone back there at all.

So I tried Aubrey's but theirs only contained shouts and screaming as the couple couldn't decide again where they want their own marriage to be celebrated. I hollered at them to stop fighting; I ranted and raved at them, demanding to know if they've seen the redhead.

I was on the brink.

Aubrey looked at me, her eyes piercing through mine and she immediately knew.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pacing over to me with her arms outstretched whilst Stacie rushed off to her bedroom to look for her phone. I let myself be engulfed in her bosom but my arms stayed limp as if they've been leaded.

"She's not here."

* * *

"Promise me you'll find her, Beca."

I look at our joined hands; his grip firm and almost deathly. His eyes are sincere and kind, though the eye bags have somewhat made him squint a little. After what seems like a thousand years, I nod.

I promised.

"Where are you going to find, B?" Aubrey asks in a timid voice as we walk away.

My mood has swung extremely since Chloe's left. I'd be crying my lungs out in one moment, laughing gaily as if nothing has happened in another, and then bearing down at her with words that not only pierce but also cut with a salty aftermath at the snap of my fingers. The poor blonde has suffered the brunt and all she's got is the shortest end of the stick.

Because Stacie has asked her to give her time, the blonde did strictly so. Phone calls aren't made at all – not even an email or a text was sent. I did spy her stealing glances at her phone from time to time, and locking herself in bed under covers when she thought I was sleeping just to reread all their text messages. The brightness of the screen illuminating her face, her tears glimmering in the reflected light.

She's clinging on to an imaginary hope for both our sakes. In her mind, as long as one of us is still sane, we will all  **be**  and functioning. Since young she has always been the stronger one, holding us together like the glue mixture that held on to the wood chips in a plywood plank.

Whilst I cried openly, displaying my wounds for all to see, she has to hide hers and let them flow freely in secret places. She's been looking forward to this marriage more than anyone else – more than Stacie even. She's the one who proposed, the one who sang, the one who made the first move, and the one who kept Stacie back.

The brunette wasn't all bad, of course. She loves Aubrey with all of her – that I believe. But their fights are getting too much for her and she needed a breather. The brunette left with a kiss on Aubrey's lips, letting her hand fall as she took to the door. Whilst it was needed, a break from any form of contact with the brunette is killing Aubrey – she is literally wilting inside.

"I don't know but I've got to try." My voice matching hers as we clamber into her Prius. We sit in the vehicle for a long while, not moving and not talking. The only sounds present are that of our heavy breathing and the ringing in our ears against the silence in the car.

"Take me to Claire's again." I finally say, rousing her from her thoughts. The blonde looks dazed for a moment before acknowledging my words. She shoots me a look that asks if I'm sure. I nod my certainty at her, sliding the seat belt across my front as I lean back into the seat.

* * *

" _I'm sorry," I whispered into her ear, my breaths still heavy and laborious from our romp in the bed earlier._

" _Why?"_

" _I'm a jackass for how I treated you at work before."_

" _It's okay. I'm not that good myself." She pulled my face towards her and pecked me on the lips. We pulled apart slightly and leaned our foreheads together. "I'm actually glad we started out that way."_

_When I arched my eyebrows at her confession, she laughed. Her head lolled back as she belted out heavenly sounds of joy and glee. I sighed, relishing in that moment._

" _I think it makes me cherish you now," she calmed down slightly and said, her teeth baring into a wide grin as if what she's just said was a joke but one look in her eyes and I knew._

_She meant every word._

" _So you cherish me, huh?" She nodded, pulling me closer to her again and sniffing the top of my head._

" _Always."_

* * *

I stare at the doorknob in front of me, silently counting down to the seconds as I await the approach of the apartment's occupants. The shuffling of feet behind the wooden panel sends shivers down my spine. Chloe can possibly be standing right there behind the door, looking at me through the peephole right now. That thought both creeps me out and excites me to no end.

"Chloe?" I call, rapping on the door once more.

The door swings open, revealing a mop of red hair. Her emerald green eyes sparkling in the sunlight as she looks down at me. For the average Caucasian woman, I'm considered a shorter prototype. Not that my redhead minded it a bit, seeing how she's only taller than me by 6 centimeters.

"Beca."

"Is- Is Chloe here?"

"I've told you before already. She's not here." Claire shakes her head, leaning against the door jamb with her arms crossed in front of her, impassive.

I sigh, bowing my head low. Chloe's mentioned before that her sister has bought an apartment here in Manhattan and is staying alone. I peek past her body and spot a shoe cabinet in a corner; a whole line of shoes is arranged neatly along the length of the furniture. Amongst them is this pair of neon green Converse chucks – it has a hole at the side of the left shoe, the rubber lining of both shoes are torn where the balls of the feet are.

Those are Chloe's chucks. She's left some shoes and clothes at Claire's because her collection is taking up too much space in our apartment. The laces of the chucks are undone – unlike her usual habit of keeping them tucked away neatly when she's not going to wear. That's strange.

"Where is she?" I ask again, nodding towards those chucks and looking back pointedly at her. Claire turns and sees the chucks, sighing as she facepalms herself.

"Great."

"Why is she avoiding me?"

"Beca-"

"Is she here? Is she?" I push past the sister and barrel through the apartment, shouting her name as I go around the rooms for signs of the redhead. Aubrey walks up behind Claire and places a firm grip on her shoulders.

"Don't worry. Let her be." She says, watching as I grow increasingly frustrated at yet another fruitless search.

"I wanted to say don't bother, Beca. Chloe's gone for the weekend to our Aunt Collins."

What? She let the redhead roam the streets by herself? I start taking in huge gulps of air as I throw death glares over at the sister. How can she do that? What if something happens to Chloe?

"What the heck are you thinking, letting her go out alone?!" Instead of my voice, Aubrey's own agitated shriek fills the apartment. Both Claire and I stare at her dumbfounded; the kraken has broken loose again. I can see her veins pounding against her temples, her eyes flashing dangerously. Claire herself looks like she's about to throw chunks - her face going from shock to perplexity, and finally into anger. She shakes her head, slumping down against the wall. She runs her hand down her face before throwing us a dirty look.

"You think I would let my precious sister do that? Are you nuts?"

"But you just sa-"

"I said she's gone, I didn't say I let her go alone."

Good. Well at least I know now where she is. She's safe, that silly girl is safe. Aubrey taps me on the shoulder and motions to the door.

"To Aunt Collins."

* * *

" _You know what they call me back in college?" I asked, swinging my racket hard at the tiny black ball flying towards me. It flew off tangent and hit the side wall before flying back towards my girlfriend. She sidestepped it and walked towards the exit, triumph written all over her face. I winced when the ball hit me hard in the shin before bouncing off somewhere else._

" _Let me guess," she quipped, taking a long drink from her bottle, "epic squash loser."_

_I pouted and tossed my racket away, opting for my water bottle as well. Once we both rehydrated, she motioned towards the court, gamed for another round. I shook my head, shifting my duffel aside so that I could have a seat on the bench._

" _Beca..." She called, tugging at my hand and swinging my arm side to side. "Just one more game for me, please? I promise I won't call you names."_

" _But," I lifted my arms wanting to make a point, only to get my train of thoughts derailed. I sighed and dropped the arms, defeated._

" _What?"_

" _I'm all rusty. I used to be good at this, alright?"_

" _You say that; you'd missed more than half your service, babe."_

" _Chloe..."_

" _Fine, I'm sorry. Look, we can catch up. I'll guide you." She flashed a smile, her voice pumped with sincerity as she offered me her hand again. My eyes darted between her outstretched hand to her sweaty forehead. Sit here and continue to be a loser versus letting a pretty redhead like her win._

_Didn't seem like I have a choice._

" _Okay, all you have to do now is to drop the ball – not with too much force because it'll bounce straight up and that's not good, okay? Drop the ball with a gentle downward push, like you mean to drop it but you don't want to force it." She stood behind me, our hips connected as she held on to both my hands. The tiny black ball held tightly in my hand as she moved it up and down, showing me the direction and the amount of force required to drop._

_I couldn't let the ball go too high; I couldn't let it go too low either._

" _Just make sure your arm is straightened when you drop it. Now drop." We watched the ball drop and bounce up to the height where my swing would meet it at the most optimal angle. She let out a squeal of glee and quickly placed another ball in my hand._

" _Now, time for your swing. When you swing, you swing with your entire torso. Your core provides the strength for your swing. You would want a powerful and accurate ball, right? So you turn like this," she held on to my waist and racket arm, turning me anti-clockwise whilst holding my hips still. I felt my cheeks flushed at the contact. This redhead's seriously got me all worked up – not over the ball but-_

" _Beca, concentrate!" She chided, her grip tightening around my wrist. We did a few more rounds of the "turn and hit" before she actually let me have a real swing at the ball. When we came to it, the ball bounced off the springy netted face and flew towards the wall with such grace and power, I almost teared. It hit a good few inches above the service line._

_We did it. I turned in her arms and hugged her with such ferocity, I'd forget about the rebound. I won't say I was badly hurt, but the bruise took a week to heal._

" _Look at you all sweaty," she cooed, lifting my shirt up and above my head and using it to wipe off excess perspiration. I tilted my head back to give her more access to my neck, closing my eyes as I enjoyed the little massage. It ended all too soon when she suddenly pushed me into the cubicle and under the cascading water. I shivered as the cold liquid hit against my heated skin. The redhead pulled the curtains behind her with a smirk before shoving me against the wall, trying to resume her previous task._

_Only this time, she's using her lips._

" _Chlo..."_

" _Mhmm?" She nipped and licked at the skin, making tiny popping noises that sent squirms down my spine. In a good way._

" _Shorts..."_

" _Really, someone's getting eager already."_

" _They **are**  getting wet, babe." I pulled away slightly and turned the tap off. Both of us looked down at my white pair of sports shorts – not so white anymore. And so not decent._

_Might as well remove them._

* * *

"Beca, please. Just let her be." Claire pleads, standing between the door jamb and the door itself, holding on tightly with her hands. "She just needs to think everything through."

"Everything? What everything? Claire, do you realize that an opportunity for her to get well has presented itself on a plate right now? Dr Brun's all ready to remove that tumor for her and she's... just gone like that! How's that supposed to make me feel? How's that supposed to make all of us feel  **and think**?"

"You don't understand, do you?" Her voice filled with challenge as she closes the door behind her, effectively locking us in.

"No, I don't." I'm getting louder, my arms crossed in front of me. Aubrey steps to the side, not wanting to get into this head on just yet. I bet all my grandmother's knickers that if she's in, she'll go all the way. Claire won't stand a chance. "So explain to me. Please."

Lost, derailed, getting voided – these are the very emotions pulsing through me as I speak, my breaths getting labored again. Despite her house's air-conditioning, the back of my shirt is starting to drench and stick to my skin.

"Tell me, please. Why is she doing this, why did she leave me?" I can feel my lips quiver, a stray tear rolling down the side of my cheek.

Claire shakes her head, knowing it is impossible for anything else but the truth now. She gestures towards the couches, and takes a seat herself. Aubrey and I follow suit, choosing to sit on the love seat next to her instead. Somehow in the span of two weeks, Chloe has managed to intrude herself on Claire's living space. Every corner – big or small, screamed Chloe. Colors predominated the living area; a few books on interior design laying on the low-rise coffee table, and the small but insightful stack of DVDs gave it all away.

She has indeed been here – her presence still felt though it's getting dimmer and dimmer. But it's still Chloe Beale nonetheless.

Claire motions to the books, picking one up and flipping to a page that has been dog-eared. "Chloe would kill me if I tell you everything – that's not my place. But I thought maybe this will somewhat explain a part of it."

I pull the book towards me, setting it on my lap. It's heavy and loaded – newspaper clippings of various apartment listings have slotted in between the pages of the book. It is also filled with cut-out articles on TSC-SEGA, proof that the redhead herself has been researching on her own thing as well. Well, at least she hasn't given up on herself. I search Claire's eyes intently, trying to eek out any trace of deception but find none.

She won't dare to lie to me anyway.

"That magazine-"  _It's a magazine?_ "-is dated last month. My sis has been on this for a while already. Don't you think she's trying to convey something at all? Even if it's in secret?"

I study the earmarked page, unfolding the flap and evening out its crease as my eyes flit through its images. Flattened red ovals have been drawn all over with inscriptions scribbled all over in the same red ink. There're phrases like "our future bedroom", "this color is nice for our kitchen", "Beca would like this couch" and, this I love: "Our future love nest."

Chloe has been planning our future together. I peer over at the rest of the stack, seeing how the dates ran a few months back; it has always been on her mind. I throw a glance at Claire who simply nods and leans back into the couch looking relieved.

"All these silly blueprintings and idea-scrapbook have been going on for the past couple of years; she kind of got obsessed over it near the start of last month though, and it's all she's been doing since she came here. She said it'll keep the tears at bay."

I run my fingers down the surface of the page, feeling the slightly creased spots where her tears must have landed.

"Why, Claire?"

"I don't actually know. She won't say. All she's ever mentioned was how she doesn't want to hurt you. That's all she said when she appeared out of nowhere at my doorstep having knocked the daylights out of my door."

The older redhead is trying to cheer me up. She must be tired too.

"We're gonna go." Both Aubrey and Claire whip their heads over at me, their eyes widen with surprise. "Come on, Bree." I tug the blonde at her hand, leading her out of the apartment.

* * *

"You're seriously not considering going to Aunt Collins?" Aubrey asks as she pulls up in the lot in front of our building. I nod, scrolling through my unread messages. Most of them are from Fat Amy giving me updates on work stuff. A new girl has came in to replace Chloe for a while. According to our resident gossipmonger, this "chick has gotten Luke drooling all over her. Ms Dean isn't pleased." I chuckle at the text and tilt my phone so that Aubrey can read it too.

She sends an amused tsk my way and turns to look out the car window. The weather has been rather chilling these days with scattered periods of passing rain clouds. I'd silently thank God for the lack of thunderstorms though. Without the redhead, I won't know who to turn to for my thunder buddy. Unlike Chloe, Aubrey would simply sleep through the loud claps of thunders and the blinding flashes of lightning.

"Oh my gosh."

"What?" I frown, reading a text from Ms Dean about an upcoming project that would need my expertise.  _Expertise in what?_

Aubrey doesn't answer. She throws the door open and sprints up the steps towards her apartment. I quickly turn off the engine, locking the car behind me as I chase after my best friend. Long legs versus short legs, this can take a while.

"Aubrey?" I pant out, sucking in as much air as I could with my body bent over, holding on to the door jamb for support. "Aubrey." Why isn't anyone answering?

I look up and realize why.

She reaches up to her face with a shaking hand. Her fingers run over the wet contours, tracing the tear stain. She gently tugs and flips the lower lip with her thumb, wondering if it still tastes the same. A small smile slowly creeps across her face - her eyes roaming down its object, lavishing it with desire. Her other hand floats down to grip around her waist, clutching on tightly and pulling her closer.

"You're back." Aubrey breathes out slowly as she takes in the sight of her beloved fiancée; her voice shaking, as though afraid that this is a figment of her imagination. "Are you real?"

Stacie chuckles and runs her entire arm around the blonde's waist, pulling her flush against her front. Their lips stood mere inches away from each other, their breaths combined to fog up Stacie's black framed glasses. "I'm very sorry I left. I missed you."

Aubrey stares at her, her face a cemetery of emotions compared to Stacie's tearful smiling one. I frown, not knowing how my best friend is going to react. Usually it's easy to tell: a miniscule nod of the head, a tiny quirk of an eyebrow, a slight tremble on the lips – these are all absent. I watch as Stacie opens her mouth again to speak. Her first words are probably at the tip of the tongue when Aubrey suddenly lunges forward and closes the gap between their lips.

"Don't leave again. Promise me." The blonde whispers into her lips. Stacie shuts her eyes and leans in to complete the kiss.

* * *

"You have no message."

I nod grimly at the nice lady from the answering machine as I take a long drink from the cold soda can. What was I expecting – for her to call me and tell me why she just left like that? I want to be angry, I want to be so angry at her so that maybe this won't be so painful at all. But the truth is, no matter how many layers of emotions I pile on this void, it will never go away.

It won't go away.

I throw the can on the floor and crush it with my foot, throwing its aluminum carcass into the bin before making my way to bed. A soft knock on the door stops me in my tracks and I wheel around. Chloe?

"Beca? Are you in there?"

"Yeah." I call back, slumping down onto the couch with disappointment.

"I'm sorry I ditched you in the car earlier. Do you want to talk about what happened at Claire's?" I shake my head and clamber out of the seat, staggering towards my room. Aubrey keeps on knocking and calling my name. I guess she got the hint when I slammed the bedroom door behind me. I sigh as my head hits the soft pillows, burying my face into the covers.

Still smells like her. Fruity from her favorite shampoo, mixed with bits of her drool and body scent. It's getting faint but it's there. It's still there and I'm thankful - can't sleep without it. I feel my eyes fluttering close as exhaustion starts to take over when my phone suddenly blares out  _Sweet Child of Mine_. I've got to change this damned ringtone.

"TGIF, Short Stack! Where are you?!"

"I'm at home,  **about**  to sleep. What's up with the voice anyway? Are you in a library?"

She scoffs. "Righto, pint size. You've got to come over. Right now!"

"Why? I'm getting pretty comfortable here. I just got back and it's cold out." I shuffle deeper into the covers trying to prove my point, facepalming myself when I realize she's not here to witness my comfort.

"Fine, I get that you're on leave and whatever but Becs - there's someone whom you would  **really**  want to see here. I won't miss it if I were you."

* * *

I throw the doors open and make a sprint for our workstation, bumping into people without a care if they're holding a stack of papers or even a cup of hot coffee – which by the way, really hurts. I'm a few tables away from that hint of red hair when someone lugs me around the waist and throws me into a chair. The impact made the air whoosh out from my lungs and I sit there gasping desperately, my knuckles white as I grab on tightly to the arms of the chair.

"What the heck, Am-" Lilly clamps her hand down on my mouth before I can complete my sentence. It is then that I realize my group of friends cum coworkers has gathered around me. All of them are either squatting down or bent over so that Chloe wouldn't see us over the mountains of piles of documents and books.

Which is weird in itself because the entire office hates piles of any sorts. Whilst printing blueprints and design proofs (and contracts in black and white) are important, Ms Dean has set the green rule that unless necessary, use of paper should be kept to a minimal.

I quirk my eyebrows at them, wondering if this is some kind of conspiracy to get me napped and shipped off somewhere for money. I'm sure I'm worth a lot. I  **hope**  I am worth a lot.

"Shush," Lilly says. Because everyone else is so quiet, I can finally hear what she's saying, clearly. "Chloe doesn't know you're here."

"Yeah, she'll totally kill me if she sees you."

"But-" my voice muffled by Lilly's hand and I roll my eyes at the futile attempt to speak. Lilly makes an apologetic face and loosens her hand. "Thanks. Anyway, I thought you told me to come here to see her."

"Yes but you got to do it quietly and in stealth." Luke chimes in, his voice a weird imitation of Fat Amy's conspiratorial voice.

I narrow my eyes at his words. "What, stealth as in James Bond stealth? Are you serious?"

Everyone nods, solemnness written on their faces. Even Bumper is frowning – he only frowns during serious conversations. Ms Dean often wonders why Bumper is always looking so annoyed at her during meetings. Oh bless that woman.

I stare at all of them for a while, hoping that this is some kind of a joke that maybe Chloe has tasked them to carry out the moment I'm in office. After a few moments of silence, I finally give up and to them, consent for doing this. I just want to see Chloe.

"What are you bummers up to?" Fat Amy and co freeze. I feel my eyes widening at the voice of the intruder.

"Plan B, Plan B!" Fat Amy mouths to the rest and they quickly whip around to face the redhead, effectively hiding me behind a wall of erect human bodies. Through the gaps between their arms, I can see Chloe trying to look over their shoulders but failing. She then pouts and her eyes demands to know what the gang is up to.

She doesn't really like being left out on things.

"Uh, nothing. Luke is just showing us his nude photographs." Luke scoffs loudly and throws a glare at Fat Amy.

"What?! Naked Luke? Hey I want to have a look too!" Yup, that's my girlfriend – always eager to look at nude pictures of others.

Fat Amy frowns, knowing she's blundered, "Uh no, no. I mean  **Bumper** 's nude photos." It's the brunette's turn to make a face. Actually, it's not so much of an offended face (like Luke's) more than a shocked one. Chloe mirrors his expression, taking a step back.

"Oh, then it's okay."

Everyone remains where they are in silence. I can hear the office clock ticking away as they play the waiting game, hoping they'll outlast the other – Chloe vs the rest of the world. I sigh loudly, totally forgetting my deal with Fat Amy. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Chloe's jaw drop at the sound.

"Wh- Who's there behind you?" She asks, her voice timid and shaky.

"Me. It's me, Chloe." I push past the rest and present myself in front of my girlfriend with my hands tucked into my front pants pocket. Gosh, I do hope she's still my girlfriend.

"I'm- I'm the nude photographs they're talking about."

Instead of silence, a cloud of awkward tension has descended upon us. It almost feels as if we've gone back to olden times when we are no more than a pair of snarky, snap-at-each-other's-necks work partners. Chloe looks shocked to see me. Her eyes dart behind me at the rest, demanding an explanation for my presence here.

Fat Amy casts a quick glance at her fellow conspirators, motioning with a hitch of her head and they promptly move to head back to her workstation. Bumper mumbles a good luck as he ambles over to join the rest. All this while, Chloe kept her eyes on me.

No matter what she's going to say, I'm sure I don't want our coworkers hearing. So I jab my thumb towards the pantry and she nods, turning to walk towards the appointed location with me tagging right behind.

* * *

" _Ow!"_

_I wheeled around and felt my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach at the sight of the redhead. She's on all fours and tears were threatening to break through the floodgates. I quickly made my way to her, squatting down so that we're at eye level._

" _Hey, you okay?"_

" _No! I'm hurt!" She snapped but she didn't push me away – that's always a good sign. I gingerly helped her to shift so that she could sit on the ground. Her knees were scrapped with blood oozing out from the dirty cuts. Her palms and wrists were also bloodied and bruised from breaking her fall._

_"I'm sorry you fell down." She pursed her lips with her eyes shut as I poured water over her wounds, rinsing away the dirt from her skin. "Does this hurt?"_

_"_ _You want to try falling and skinning yourself? Yes, of course this hurts. Ow!" She hissed again as I dabbed at the cuts with a cotton pad drenched in iodine solution. "Can you please be more- Ow! Hey!"_

" _I'm sorry. Please bear with it." I mumbled, pulling a roll of bandage over her knee. She pouted and helped me hold the gauze in place, grimacing when I applied force to tie the bandage in place. She remained quiet for the rest of the bandaging, save for a few hissing here and there whenever her cuts come into contact with the stinging solution. Once done, I flashed her a smile and offered my hand to her._

_She grabbed on to the outstretched hand and tried to get up, wincing as pain shot up her legs. "My ankle, I think I twisted it or something."_

_I turned my head and examined the rest of the trail, blaming myself for insisting that we should go hiking that day. She tugged at my hand and I turned back to look at her. "I don't think I can walk."_

" _Never mind. Come, try to stand and hop on to me." I turned around and bent my knees, my back hunched over. She held on to my hand and slowly pulled herself up._

" _Are you sure about this?"_

_I nodded, hitching her up with my arms tucked behind her knees. She gave a little squeak at the sudden jolting, her arms wrapped around my shoulders for support. We walked the rest of the trail in that manner. I could feel her heart beating fast against my back, her face leaning against the back of my neck as my feet hit against the dirt path. It was actually rather romantic if you'd ask me – what with dusk falling around us and the sun setting down behind the trees with the birds chirping happily around us._

" _Beca," she whispered, as if scared that her voice will scare away the moment._

" _Mhmm." I craned back to look at her; her eyes were fixed on mine. She tightened her grip around me as she licked her lips._

" _What if one day I get so fat that you can't carry me?"_

_I chuckled, hitching her up again to get a better leverage and grip. I could feel her pouting against my neck as I continued walking down the path, our journey in the park ending soon._

" _Then I'll get just as fat as you, and we can roll around together."_

* * *

I stand with my arms crossed, leaning against the dining table. She pulls the glass door closed and slowly turns around; her eyes downcast and not meeting mine. I try clearing my throat but she wouldn't look up.

"Chloe?" I try again.

"Yeah."

I sigh. This is like talking to some child who's feeling guilty over some booboo made. I unfold my arms and make my way over to her, slowly and carefully paced so that I won't scare her away. She finally looks up and meets my eyes just as I come to a stop a few inches away from her.

"You came back."

"No, I came back to work."

I bite down on my lower lip. I expected this kind of response but it still stings. "I thought you're at your Aunt Collins."

"Claire won't let me come back to work so I let her think I'm headed to Aunt Collins. Hailed a cab the moment she disappeared around the bend after she dropped me off."

"Chloe, you're making everyone worried. Why are you doing this?" Exasperation is slowly making its way up my nerves as I listen to her nonchalance in the entire matter. Seriously, doesn't it bother her that there's whole bunch of people worried sick for her?

Her eyes flitter everywhere, checking out the furniture and objects around the pantry as if they are of more importance than my question. She then closes her eyes and I can hear her breathing evening out.

"Chlo-"

"Let's break up."

What? I must be going crazy. Did she just say-

"Let's break up," she repeats, her eyes still closed. Usually at this point in the conversation, tears would start rolling down her cheeks but right now, there's none. I part my lips to take in a huge gulp of air through my mouth, feeling it dry up the buccal cavity as it passes down my gut. My feet are numb and leaded. I try to move them but I can't. In fact, my whole body has went numb. A loud ringing resonates in my ears as I replay her words in my mind.

_Let's break up. Let us break up._

In the past week filled with restless sleep (or no sleep at all), I have imagined all kinds of scenarios happening when I finally find my redhead and reunite with her. None of them reflected this scene; it's not included. Breaking up with Chloe is never an option to me. It is non-existent.

That's why I've never imagined it; that's why I couldn't find any word in response to that statement, to that request. Except,

"Why?"

She shakes her head, her floodgates finally working as her cheeks get overwhelmed with tears. Her shoulders heave as she tries to contain her sobs. She doesn't want this. But a nagging voice at the back of my head tells me that she needs this. Why?

"Beca, I'm sorry but we can't be together anymore. I'm sorry."

"You can't just say that, you know?" I remove my glasses and rubs my eyes against the back of my sleeves. "You can't just decide for us both.

"I'm a  **sick person** , Beca! Don't you get it? I may leave you anytime and I don't want that!"

"Chloe."

"Don't Chloe me, it won't work. I've been working up to this for the past week. I'm very sorry that I left without a word but I can't look at you when I know I needed to do this, do you understand? I  **need**  this, Beca. I can't be with you."

"But Chloe," I grab her hands quickly and shake her to shut her up for a bit, "No, listen to me. Dr Brun has found a way out. You can be better, Chloe! There  **is**  hope!"

"There isn't! Okay? I saw it – I saw me marrying you right there in the hall that day!" My eyes widen at her words, my hands losing its grip. "I used to see a future with us, Beca. I saw it. It was happy and hopeful. And then I saw us getting our vows out before that altar and I felt all warm and fuzzy and suddenly, it was snatched away from me. I saw me collapsing there. It's not Mrs Greene, Beca. It was me. I saw me. I used to think that this sickness won't stop me from getting the happiness I wanted but-"

"Chlo-"

"I could be taken away from you anytime. Don't you see it, Beca?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I don't want to hurt you. If I could turn back time, I won't even step into your life at all. You need to be with a healthier person, babe. Not someone like me who can just die anytime. Not someone like me who- who gets into seizure or has- has her brains exploded because of some stupid tumor that doesn't go away." Her voice cracks towards the end as another wave of sobs breaks her countenance.

"Baby, you can survive that surgery, I promise you!"

"Oh yeah? What are the stakes, Beca? What's the percentage like? 60? 70? Even having a 90% chance scares me to no end because that's a 10% area where I would never wake up and see you again."

I find myself swallowing thickly at her words, trying to find a comeback but I can't. Not because there's some truth in them, but because I can't believe she's been thinking all of that. Chloe takes a step closer to me and wraps her arms around my waist. Her chin digs into my shoulder as she holds on to me for dear life.

"I love you, Beca. I love you so much that it hurts. I can't lose you. I can't." She pulls back and leans in to kiss me. I melt into her lips, feeling her warmth engulf me in this cold and unfeeling pantry.

"Then don't, ever." I whisper into her lips; my hands caressing and cupping her face.

"I won't but once I'm gone, I would." In that moment, I realize what she meant. She places her hand over my left chest and presses in. We can feel my heart racing against my ribcage, and I reach over to hold her hand in mine. "It'll be better for me to leave now than to take a whole piece of you when I'm really gone."

"Stay with me, Chloe. Please."

"You'll find someone better," she lets out a heavy breath before continuing, her fingers running through my hair whilst the other hand explores my facial contours, "someone who can love you and not leave you at all. Someone who will look into those beautiful eyes and you can feel them staring right into your soul and makes your world go silent in that moment."

"Baby..."

She leans in for another kiss. "Goodbye, Beca Mitchell."

_It's painful to say goodbye to someone you don't want to let go. But it's more painful to ask someone to stay when you know all they want is to leave._


	11. the mind can't object the heart

_I stretched my arm behind my back and over my head, feeling the tension before I let go and flung the pebble towards the lake. The tiny thing skipped a few times across the surface, causing a few ripples before sinking into the dark blue water. I sighed, picking another pebble near my foot._

_A snap behind me halted my actions and I froze. It's nearly dark out – the sun has almost vanished behind the trees and I was pretty sure I was the only one around in this secluded area of the park. My breaths started to become erratic as I prepared my heart for whoever or whatever was standing behind me. Should have asked Aubrey or Chloe to come with._

_A yelp escaped from my lips when my world was suddenly plunged into darkness. I froze at the contact, unsure if I should reach up and yank the hands covering my eyes away or simply just scream for help. The latter seemed like an unhelpful choice given how far away we were from any human civilization._

" _Guess who."_

_Oh._

_I reached up and pulled away the hands, craning back to see a pair of cerulean eyes staring back at me. My lips curled up involuntarily and I found my body caving in as she wrapped herself around my back. "Sorry if I freaked you out."_

" _Freaked me out? I think I've wet my pants, babe." I quipped, leaning my cheek against hers and stealing the warmth away from her body as the air around us plunged a few degrees. "What are you doing out here so late anyway?"_

_She released me from her arms and sat down beside me, linking our hands together. "To find you. Are you okay there?"_

" _I guess. Just wanted to get away from the madness."_

" _You're still not over him?" Her words made me drop the twig I was holding and I spun around to face her. My eyes widened when I saw uncertainty flashing across her face._

" _God, no. I'm very over him. I'm so over him, I'm literally up in the skies and he's just a tiny speck from where I'm seeing him." She giggled and pulled me closer to her, leaning her lips into my ear._

" _I'm sorry about what happened. I know it must hurt still." I made a face and shrugged it off, not wanting the redhead to feel bad for what the asshat has done. It's not her place nor her fault. She sighed and rose to stand before me. I quirked an eyebrow at her outstretched hand, wondering what this ball of energy was up to next. "Take my hand."_

" _What are you doing?" I rose to meet her face to face. She smiled and placed her hands shyly on my shoulder and waist. My lips curled involuntarily for the second time that night as she started twirling us around in a slow waltz, her sultry voice filling the air around._

_You're just too good to be true / can't take my eyes off of you / you're like heaven to touch / I wanna hold you so much / at long last love has arrived / and I thank God I'm alive / you're just too good to be true / can't take my eyes off of you_

* * *

I find myself curled under my blankets once again – complete with little balls of tissues scattered around the bed and on the floor. The curtains are drawn and the lights out, plunging myself into the depths of this dark, dark, lonely place.

Day 3.

Or is it day 5? I don't know.

I remember hitting my fists against the pillows over and over again the moment I reached home. It was Luke and Fat Amy who got me home, I think. Or was it Bumper and Lilly? I remember grabbing hold of her pillow and pulling it apart.

I couldn't. I didn't have the strength. So I punched it with every ounce of energy I had. I clenched my teeth. I needed to blame something. I needed to transfer the pain. I couldn't sleep. I can't – not at all. Not a wink. Every time I close my eyes, images of her would replay like a broken DVD player, over and over – that smile, her eyes, that nose that shakes a little when she sniffles, those crimson locks that always get into my mouth when we kiss or make love. Scenes of us together would keep flashing across my face, torturing me to no end. I would focus on that twinkle in her eyes – it tells me so much about her and her emotions that I don't even need to ask twice. I'd zoom in on that hairpin curve of her lips - how it twitched when I said something to annoy her out of jest; how it opened and expanded whenever I make a funny and she'd laugh.

Oh, how she laughed! It's like heaven raining on my heart the moment she let out that marvelous sound from her mouth. A simple ha-ha in the morning would make my day so bright I could confidently say to the sun "I don't need you anymore." And then I finally fell asleep one night – out of pure exhaustion than willpower really and I found out: you don't have to be awake to cry.

"Beca?"

Her voice, laced thick with concern echoes throughout the empty apartment. I quickly jump onto the door from my bed – an easy task given how much space the king size furniture has taken up in this tiny hole in the wall of a room. She keeps pounding on the door, throwing demands and threats. Threats that are useless.

I'd wish those threats could kill.

Every single sharp object from my house – knives, staplers, keys, even spatulas and pens, everything as long as they have a potential to cause injury has been kept away. The walls in the bedroom have been covered by thin foam mattresses; they're mounted against every possible surface, and even the sharp edges of the bed are wrapped with foam papers. Count on Aubrey to be this detailed.

They didn't have to worry about outside though; I've imprisoned myself. And I hated the light too much to even venture out from the window. Thank God the skylights are installed in the living room.

"Open up, Beca."

"No."

"You have to eat."

"I don't want to."

I lean back onto the door panel, my back flattened against it. Her pounding has ceased and the house becomes silent once more.

I was wrong.

I got thrown forward and I fall down hard on the bed, my face in her pillow. The blonde sighs and walks in, feeling around the wall to her left and flicks the light switch on. I quickly throw the blankets over my head, ducking out from the sudden influx of brights. A dip in the mattress informs me that getting her to leave would be an impossible task. The Posens always get what they want (that's different if you happen to be a Conrad.) I clutch on tightly to the blankets as we begin the daily tug of war – so far, the score has been 0 to-

"Hey!" I yell, shooting up in my bed to cast her my most murderous glare ever.

"This is how weak you'll get for skipping your meals, Becs. Come on, I've made your favorite omelette with parma ham and shiitake." I shake my head vehemently, lugging the blankets from her grip. Damned it, why is she so strong? "Beca..."

"No, okay? I don't want to eat. I don't want anything. I just want her back. Right here." I point at the empty space next to me. "What's the point of having a King when I don't have my queen?"

"You still have us, Becs."

"Oh yeah? Well let me tell you something: Stacie still has Chloe and you still have your wedding. I have  **nothing** , Aubrey.  **Nothing**. I gave and I gave and I tried and this is what I've got. My heart was smashed into a million pieces, yes? And just when I thought she's the elixir I was looking for after Jesse, she bloody took my entire heart – what's left of it and all scotch-taped up, and threw it from such a height. It's still falling – still falling. I'm waiting for it to finally hit rock bottom but no. It won't. Because it's a freaking abyss and there's no end. There's no fucking end, Aubrey."

I keep my gaze fixed on the pillow, refusing to meet hers. After a minute or two, I hear the front door slam shut.

* * *

" _It's your first day out since Dr Brun gave you the green light and you want to go shopping?"_

" _I love shopping."_

" _I know that. But won't you want to do something less-"_

" _I want to shop, Becs." I nodded, raising my hands in surrender as I tagged along behind the redhead, following her through rows of racks of clothes with our hands linked._

_After 15 minutes of aimless wandering around in the departmental store, she finally chose a rack and waved me over. I arched my eyebrows as she held out a pair of matching flannel shirts to me._

" _This should fit." She said, casting my body a look._

" _Wha-"_

_Before I knew it, I was shoved into one of the fitting rooms and she followed suit, drawing the thick, grey curtain behind us. I let my hands hang in the air as she made a quick work at the buttons of my current shirt, peeling it off my shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. She then pulled her own top off, gracing me with that glorious cleavage of hers. I winced when she smacked me in the arm with a smirk on her face._

" _Keep your eyes up here, perv," she sallied, pointing two fingers at her own eyes._

_I laughed, holding on to the shirt she'd passed me. "What are you thinking of, Chlo?"_

" _I just want to know why you like wearing flannels so much."_

" _They're comfortable and warm enough."_

" _You're such a hipster."_

" _Ain't not. Hipsters wear skinny jeans and beards. I wear skinny jeans but I don't have a beard. Look, I'm totally clean-shaven!" I lifted my chin towards her, earning myself an amused eyeroll. Totally worth it._

" _You're such an idiot. Come, put this on for me." I quietly obeyed and after a few minutes of struggling due to the limited space, I finally looked up. There, standing in front of me was a gorgeous redhead flaunting a coral blue flannel shirt. It's buttoned up to her chest, leaving her neck and upper chest exposed. I gulped and swallowed hard as she pulled me closer, unbuttoning one of the top buttons._

_Now we looked alike._

" _I kinda like this," she said, checking us out in the full-length mirror._

" _Dude, we're wearing the same shirt. And you could have just borrowed one of mine, you know?"_

" _I know. I'm wearing one tomorrow."_

_I laughed, pulling her closer by the waist and planting a kiss on the area near the ear. "No wonder I couldn't find my favorite shirt earlier. So you're the culprit."_

" _I plead guilty."_

" _So what's this about?"_

" _Couple shirts. Never had them before. Come on, I'm hungry." She bent down and gathered up our clothes, pulling me out from the fitting room towards the cashier._

* * *

I peek my head out from the gap between the opened door and the wall, narrowing my eyes as I survey the apartment. No sign of the human activity. Empty. Good. I pull the door open wider and quickly slide out, tip-toeing my way to the bathroom. I gingerly wrap my fingers around the door knob and start to turn it, hearing it click and-

"What the f-"

"It's for your own good!" Aubrey cries out amongst the chaos that ensued before I even have the chance to pee. I trash about, trying to pry my limbs away from the hands that have clung on to me – like I'm the only float left for the remaining survivors of a shipwreck.

"Let go of me!" I lean and bite down on one of the hands. The yelp that follows right after clearly belongs to Luke.

"She's gone crazy!" Fat Amy's heavy accent booms next and before I know it, everything fades to black.

* * *

" _Morning sleepyhead," she cooed, climbing onto me and straddled my hips._

_I rubbed my eyes sleepily and peered up at my redhead. Her auburn locks cascaded down, framing her face and highlighting the blue in those eyes – those eyes so filled with love and I let them engulf me in their richness. It's always nice to wake up like this. I stretched my arms above my head, pushing the hands along the covers and feeling the cooling smoothness beneath my skin. She chuckled lightly and leaned down, capturing my lips in hers._

" _You taste like sunshine."_

_She laughed, "Oh yeah? I want to go to the swings today."_

_"Okay."_

" _Okay."_

" _Babe?"_

" _Yeah."_

" _You're wearing my shirt." I tugged at the lapels, my eyes probably changing a few shades darker as I took notice of how she has left a few buttons open. "I've got a better idea."_

_The smirk on her face told me she's thinking the same thing._

_We didn't go to the swings that day._

* * *

I jerk and my eyes shoot wide open. I lift my head up and take a quick survey of the room around me, frowning when I realize it's not my apartment. It's not Aubrey's either. I'm lying in a bed – a single, I believe, with folded partitions around and a small TV hanging from the ceiling in front of me. There's a table on wheels at the end of the bed with a tumbler, some cut fruits and a few coffee cups.

I'm in a hospital.

"You're awake." I look up again and see Aubrey standing at the foot of the bed, worry written all over her face. When did she sneak in? Behind her stood Stacie who's wearing a similar look. The brunette shakes her head sadly and paces over to my side, planting herself down near my hip on the bed.

"How are you feeling?" She asks, reaching up her hand to brush my hair away from my face.

"What do you expect me to feel?" My voice cold and cutting – the same voice that carried me through the past few days.

"Beca, you're making this hard for everyone."

"Hard for everyone?" I arch my eyebrows at her, feeling the ball of anger growing within the pits of my stomach. "I'm sorry."

"Bec-"

"Why don't you tell me how she is? No, seriously, tell me: did she ask about me? Did you tell her I'm right here? Is she even remotely worried for me? Does she know I'm half-dead?"

Tears start to well in her eyes and she looks up to the ceiling with her jaw clenched to get rid of them. She failed. I watch the floodgates break in front of me. Aubrey hurriedly strides over and gently wipes her cheeks dry, placing soothing circles on her back.

My back is empty.

"She's not doing so well, B."

"Well, tell that to Dr Brun." I dart my eyes down at my hands, looking at the cuts scattered across the palms – cuts from breaking my favorite vase when I couldn't stop her from leaving the house after she's gathered her things. I jolt when another hand joins in, her fingers tracing the healing wounds.

"B..."

"You two need to stop staring at me. I need you to leave this room right now."

I can hear Aubrey swallowing her saliva thickly as she casts a glance at Stacie. The brunette nods and Aubrey promptly turns and exits the room. Stacie remains seated. I sigh and force myself to look up at her. Her tears are still flowing; her hazel eyes dulled.

"You're not crying anymore, B." I shake my head, my mouth letting out a laugh that tastes so bitter on my lips.

"Happens when you reach the 1 litre quota." She sighs, taking my hand in hers. I let her.

"She wrote you a letter. Do you want me to read it?" She takes my silence as cue when she fishes an envelop from her bag. She casts me one last questioning look after she unfolded the letter, as though urging me to read it myself.

/

_Dear B,_

(I look up at the closed door and smile to myself.)

_I'm sorry I couldn't see you in person. I can't, B. We know what I'll do if I do. Don't think for one second that I don't care, alright? My entity has pined for you the moment I set my eyes on you. You have no idea how much it hurt to pretend that I hate you when I just wanted to curl up with you in my arms. The first thought that came to my mind when Dr Brun gave me the news was, "At least she has Jesse." And then he went and broke your heart and I realized it's time for me to come in, to hold you, to make you better – to be your knight in shining armor._

_I believed. I was naive._

_I thought that every thing's going to be alright, really I did. I thought I could survive the side effects but I couldn't. I'm sorry I'm not strong enough. I wish it's never found me, but the world isn't a wish-granting factory, B._

_Stop yourself over me, B. Do it for me. Stop yourself. Please. You gave me a forever within numbered days and I'm grateful. I can't love you, but I'll love you always. Remember that._

_Chloe xx_

/

I peel the letter away from my sight, rubbing it against my blanket to dry the wet spots. Great, now she's restarted my entire waterworks. I push myself up and lean back against the pillows. The blonde's right – I'm weak from the lack of food.

"Aubrey?" I call out, my voice strained, knowing my best friend is ruining the floor outside with her pacing. And I'm right; she comes bursting in instantly, her eyebrows knitted together with worry and anxiety.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" She asks, rushing to my side and grabbing my hand. Stacie follows right behind her, holding up a big cup of Mocha Frappucino. It's untouched. It's my favorite.

I shake my head and pull both women into my arms, holding them tight.

* * *

 _I shook my legs as they hung over the edge of the couch, working on my Macbook and trying to piece these two songs together. Chloe's seated next to me, her back against my side as she recited a passage from The Unbearable Lightness of Being_.  _I smiled, typing into the digital box that indicated the title of my new mix: Longing for the Lost Half._

" _I see that I've influenced you, my friend." She quipped, closing her book after dog-earing the last page, setting it aside and turning to face me. I did the same, closing the lid of the notebook and setting it atop the coffee table next to her book before turning to face her._

_We stared into each other's eyes for what seemed to be a thousand years, not saying a word. And then out of nowhere, she lunged forward and pulled my lips into hers. We kept at it, not stopping, not willing to anyway, and kept going. Even when we needed to part for air, we simply stopped making noises and let our lips float over each other's._

" _Are you afraid?" I asked, my voice a mere ghost of a whisper. I deliberately kept my eyes on hers, wanting a sure answer from her. She remained unwavering, her lips did not even quiver a bit._

" _No."_

" _Why?"_

" _Because you're here."_

* * *

Stacie puffs as she empties several brown paper bags onto my bed. I've been discharged after spending two nights in the hospital, having been nourished from all the drips and glucose solution being pumped into my body. I flash a grateful smile at her and pull one of the bags towards me.

"All 500 of them, I counted."

"I trust you," I say, peeking into the bag.

"You sure about this?" I nod, flinging my legs over the edge of the bed and stand up. Stacie immediately grabs on to my arm and shoulder when I wobble on my feet, my hip nearly hitting the bedside table. "Woah, easy there, tiger."

"I'm fine. Where's Aubrey?"

"She's getting the placards and sharpies. Anyway," she sets me down back on the bed, "Claire just called and she said Dr Brun has finally managed to convince Chlo to take on the surgery."

I swear my heart just did a few somersaults at her words. Maybe one or two head spins too.

"And you've passed Claire the letter?" She nods, her face breaking into a wide smile to mirror mine. "Thank you, Stace."

"You're very welcome. We all love you so much, don't forget that." I nod again and tug hard at her hand.

"Let's go to the hospital."

"But we're not ready yet."

"It's okay. I want to see her read it."

* * *

"Chloe, are you feeling better?" I watch as the redhead nods her head grimly, her face pale and filled with fatigue. Stacie told me that the redhead has suffered another two more seizures, worse than the one before. I think my heart just died a little.

To think I'd thought it is too wasted to feel anything.

"I miss her." Her voice coarse and small.

Claire casts a sympathetic look at her sister before shooting a sly glance our way as we hide behind the door. She clears her throat and slips my letter from her pocket. "Chloe, here's something for you. I found it on the table this morning when I came in. You were asleep."

The redhead frowns as she retrieves the envelop from her sister; the latter's helping her to sit up in the mounted bed. Her eyes widen when she sees the content and she quickly ushers her sister away, waving at her dismissively. Claire carries on the act by scoffing with disapproval and annoyance, exiting the room to join us behind the glass window, our bodies hidden by the blue blinds.

"What did you write in there, B? Why does she look so upset?"

"Something. It's meant to be sad."

"You're such a masochist. Don't you dare hurt my little sister, okay?" I shoot Claire a dark look, challenging her to repeat her words. She gulps and mutters an apology before turning her attention back to the redhead.

Stacie frowns and pokes me in the side. I wheel around to face her, not wanting the redhead to discover my presence outside her ward. The brunette motions towards her phone.

"Aubrey says everything is prepared and ready. Fat Amy and gang are also on their way here. Do you want to leave now?" I peer over the window again and finally see what I wanted to see.

"Yeah, she's done. We can go now. Claire, I want you to make sure she signs those papers and that she is prepared and ready for the surgery, okay? Dr Brun has promised me on his name and life-"

"Really? He swore on his life?"

"I may have added that in but you know I'd have him done if he ever screws up, right? Anyway, he promised it'll be successful so I really want her to go for it. You got that, Claire?" She smiles and gives a mock salute.

* * *

_Stacie slumped down next to me on the couch, her head resting against my shoulder. Aubrey came in next with a huge bowl of fresh popcorn and waved at us to scoot down the furniture. She then planted herself down comfortably against the lush cushion and laid her head in my lap. The three of us stayed in that position as we eagerly watched Neil surprising Beth with a Tiffany ring hidden in those pair of cargo pants she hated so much._

" _You know," Aubrey whispered, her voice muffled with her mouth full of popcorn. "It's amazing how much Chloe's changed you."_

" _Yeah?" I asked, eyes not leaving the TV screen._

_She nodded, tickling my lap and I squirmed. "Yeah, you never like watching movies but now you're breezing through this chick flick with unabated attention."_

" _It's Chloe's favorite, yes. And it does have a good story line in my humble opinion."_

_Aubrey sat upright and paused the movie, causing us to groan in protest. "Aubrey!"_

" _You're not just watching this, are you? What plans have you got there, Mitchell?" She narrowed her eyes at me and pursed her lips. Stacie rolled her own and made a grab for the remote control, whining when the blonde held it away from her reach. "Later babe. I promise."_

_I huffed, pushing myself off the couch. "I've no idea what you're-"_

" _Oh yes you do. What plan do you have, B? Maybe we could help."_

_I darted my eyes between the two of them and pondered over Aubrey's offer. Technically speaking, I could very well pull off the whole thing by myself but that would definitely be very time-consuming and may not achieve the results I'd want. Now that I have volunteers at my disposal..._

" _I'd need tons of glow sticks and a huge slurpee."_

* * *

Fat Amy pulls me into a bone-crushing hug the moment I step past the threshold onto the rooftop terrace. The rest of them gives some sort of a cheer, seemingly delighted by my appearance. Everyone is here: Luke, Bumper, Lilly, Unicycle – even Ms Dean. She looks up at me with that reassuring smile, her words echoing in my ears.

_You can fall in love again._

"We're all here to help, short stack. Anything you want. So long as you don't bite anyone again." Luke quickly hides his hands, his eyes widening in fear. I chuckle and throws a pillow into his face before settling down onto the bench next to Aubrey.

"Thanks, thank you so much. Alright," I sniffle, trying to keep the moving awkwardness to a minimal, "let's do this."

* * *

" _Oh my gosh, Chlo! You're so bad at this game!" I cried, twisting and turning the circular controller as I glued my eyes to the screen. Stacie has kindly lent us her Nintendo Wii machine and the Mario Kart game, complete with controllers and stuff. I've never been more excited. Next to me, I could hear a distinct tsk of disapproval._

" _What, I-"_

" _You really can't drive. You're in the water!"_

" _No, I'm-"_

" _That's terrible! Stay on the land, Chlo! Stay away from the crabs!" I yelled again, using my entire torso strength to turn the controller. "I'm so gonna be the next F1 champion."_

" _You do know you're the top screen, right?"_

" _Oh. You mean I'm..."_

* * *

"Hey B, how you doing there?"

I smile, knowing who it is without having to turn my head. "I'm fine. Thanks for not giving up on me."

"You know who you are to me, you asshole. Just keep the dramatics down a notch next time, will you?" We laugh, our elbows meeting each other's as we lean against the parapet, enjoying the night view outside the hospital. Aubrey casts a look behind her before turning back front. "They're almost done. Dr Brun also just texted me that he's done with Chloe's check up. It's almost time, B. You ready?"

"More than ever." The blonde nods and turns to lean her back against the parapet, watching as our friends scurry around us, busying themselves.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I love her, and she still loves me. I haven't stopped falling for her, you know?"

"I remember what you said, B." She quips, jumping away as I send a nudge her way. "Alright, alright. Anyway, why are you so sure of this – I mean, it's only been a month."

"Because I have the feeling that we are made to last." My gaze fixed on the faraway buildings in downtown Manhattan; the night lights forming bokehs as tears mount and veil my eyes from the real thing.

"And how does that feel like?" I knew I've piqued her interest with such vague answers. I slip my glasses off and wipe my eyes against the back of my sleeves before turning to look at her. Aubrey chuckles and retrieves my glasses from my grip, opening it up and gently slotting back unto my face. Her hazel-green eyes sparkling in the moonlight as she comes back into view. Her eyebrows quirked and arched as she awaits my response expectantly. I wink and turn back to the city view.

"Like we're en route a collision course and there's no way out."

* * *

_Dear Chloe,_

_I don't have perfect words like you do. So I've borrowed some from some of your favorite books; I hope you don't mind._

_(and yes, I've read them.)_

_You realize that trying to keep your distance from me will not lessen my affection for you. All efforts to save me from you will fail. And though it hurt so badly, it is my privilege to have my heart broken by you. So don't worry about me, Chloe; I'm alright. I'll find a way to hang around and annoy you for a long time. Fight on fearlessly with me and for me, and it shall be our secret weapon forever._

_I love you._

_B_


	12. yes, and a million.

**A/N: Thank you for spending your time with this story; thank you for the kind words you've left behind. Some of the phrases here aren't mine though I've rephrased them - they belong to Randolph, Zwick and Herskovitz (Love & Other Drugs), as well as John Green. Beautiful words, they have.**

* * *

_The third night she ran away, I went to Central Park. I searched for the lawn – that vast piece of green and threw myself on it. I didn't care about the dirt; I didn't care about the creepy crawlies underneath. I just laid there; I laid there. My nose up in the cold, moist air, smelling nothing but fresh trees and cut grass. I let gravity work its magic on the tears. I let the night bugs touch and lie on me for comfort; I pretended each bump to be hers. Nothing but a vast, vast velvet sky hanging above my eyes whilst prose after prose, lyric after lyric danced their way off my lips._

_All her favorite words._

_In that very heartbeat, all I could feel was her face – her smile. The way her fingers trace my outline – up my thumb, to my wrist; up my arm to the shoulder and then finally my ear. How gentle she was with my ear, running across each ridge as she travel down to my jaw, and then slowly to my lips. A tormenting slow. I didn't know what time it was or how long I've laid there - the city has darkened enough then for the stars to peek out from underneath that black blanket. She would tell me all the constellations she knew and sometimes I'd call her out on them. "Rubbish," I'd tease, pinned down before I could run away. And then a million pictures would zoom past my mind as fireworks filled my skies – our lips met like a jigsaw puzzle, and my eyes fluttered close._

_Despite myself._

* * *

I lean against the brick wall, hidden from sight. I can hear her taking a sharp inhale of air as her footsteps come to a cease; I can hear Stacie muffling her own mouth, possibly trying to suppress her glee. I hope it's glee.

"What's going on?"

"You'll see. Put this on." I peek my head round the corner and see that the earphones are secured in her ears. A frown filled with mild interest etched on her face as she continues to look around – possibly for clues and signs. She loves signs. I turn back just before her eyes duck to mine. This is it.

My last chance.

I count to ten, my breaths evening out my heart rate as I take the first bold step into the open. I watch as her eyes widen at my appearance – her lips quivering as she tries to keep them in check.  _No smiling, no smiling_ , I can hear her think.

So I smile for her. For us. More like a grin actually as I take closer steps toward her till I'm left with no more than a few inches from her face. Stacie has long disappeared; she's ducked into Aubrey's arms joining the rest of the pack hidden behind the door. Their ears probably straining against the metal panel.

Given the proximity, I can see her pupils dilate as the first song begins. Even when I know I can't hear – the volume's fixed at her comfort level, I can't help but feel the heat climbing up my neck. She doesn't take another step; she just remains standing there, her cerulean pools on mine.  _That's a good sign, Beca, a good sign. Go._

Still nervous, I worry at my lower lip as I slowly raise the stack of placards towards her. I think this is the first time her eyes widen to the point of tearing - they're becoming moist.  _Again, another good sign. Go._

I quickly hold up my index finger to my lips, urging her not to utter a word when I spot her own part. Instead, I hitch towards the placards, directing her to the words written in black sharpie.

_**Come with me.** _

I guide her to the first stop; she follows without question as I gingerly make my way walking backwards, trying not to trip over. The entire roof terrace has been transformed into a makeshift Beca & Chloe's apartment. Glow sticks decorated every surface and wall; fairy lights surrounded our perimeter to provide the extra brightness, but dark and colorful enough to create the scene I'd wanted.

It has to be perfect.

We've reached the first stop. The music still playing as I switch to the next placard. Behind me stood a table filled with crockery and utensils, along with a plate of freshly baked cookies and mugs of hot chocolate. She snickers but quickly recovers by masking it with a cough. She then steels her expression back to before: plain and almost unfeeling.

But of course she's feeling. She  **is**  feeling something. I keep on smiling, ignoring the ache as I flash placard after placard, making sure she's read every word.

 _ **I love the cookies you made.**_ She rolls her eyes.

 _ **Really. And I know you love my hot chocolates.**_  She rolls her eyes again and looks back at me with her nose held high with a slight smirk on her face, as if in challenge.

 _ **I'll make both for you every day if you want.**_ Her smirk fades, her brows furrowed.

 _ **Especially on rainy days**_. No expression.

 _ **Come**_ **on.** The next stop: our favorite, beat-up couch with slurpees atop. By now, her smile is back – even if a little, and her audible breathing dancing along to the music in her ears.

 _ **You know I hated movies.**_ Another eyeroll.

 _ **But because of you, I learnt to love them as much as you do.**_  A small smile there, quickly hidden again with a smart pout.

 _ **And so I went crazy the other night.**_  She frowns at this.

 _ **And bought a gazillion titles that you'd pointed out at Tom's.**_  (Tom's is the video store we have right down the corner of the street.)

_**I'll watch each and every one of them with you,** _

_**complete with slurpees.** _

_**You love slurpees.**_  She nods, albeit a very small one. She nods. Her lips pursed.

 _ **Come on.**_  Our next stop: A Wii console and Mario Kart controller. She lets out a laugh at the sight, and probably at the sounds bouncing in her ears. I shrug helplessly, swallowing the indignation that comes with the embarrassing memory.

 _ **We'll play Mario Kart.**_ She smiles at this, probably remembering the same scene as I did.

 _ **And I'll let you win. Again.**_ "Yeah right."

 _ **Come on.**_  An open drawer greets us this time. It's overflowing with a mess of flannels shirts – all mine, except the Coral Blue one that lies on top of the rest. Just like the one I'm wearing now. She licks her lips and looks back up at me.

"You hid it." I shake my head.

 _ **I didn't hide it.**_ She scoffs, bending down to pick up the shirt.

 _ **You left it with me.**_  She buries her nose into the fabric and takes a deep sniff.

"This isn't mine."  _ **Because you always wore mine.**_

 _ **Come on.**_  We round the corner and now we're facing a brick wall filled with polaroids and crisscrossing fairy lights. I watch as she takes a step forward, lifting her fingers to trace each and every photograph. They're all candid shots of us together – swimming in the lake, tickling each other after another Mario Kart challenge, sleeping under covers as we curled into each other, her spooning my face with chocolate cream, both of us laughing at Aubrey's funny – our eyes squeezed shut and our mouths wide open. Probably a very funny joke made by the blonde. There're also a few paparazzi shots of us holding hands as we walked the streets. All these have been taken by our best friends. I didn't know these existed till one day, Aubrey took a whole shoebox downstairs and showed me – her attempt to cheer me up. It did, for that few hours.

I clear my throat.

 _ **Can you see how happy we were?**_  Her eyes dart up to mine and I hold on to the gaze. It's been so long since I've looked into my favorite pair of blues. I open my mouth and inhale, feeling the cool air fill my fiery lungs.

 _ **You're beautiful, Chlo.**_  She blinks at the last placard in my hand, breaking the gaze. In that split moment, I spot a few stray drops of tears rolling down her cheeks. I reach up and wipe them away – she lets me. She doesn't move.

"What's next?" She asks, strained - pulling the earphones away. "Your voice has ended."

Without missing a beat, I lurch forward and grab her hand, wrapping my fingers around hers tightly. She doesn't resist, she doesn't pull away.  _Good sign, Mitchell, good sign. Go._  I lead her away from the wall and towards a tall table. On it stood a turntable –  **her** turntable with a vinyl record already placed on the platter. I cast her a quick smile before lifting the tonearm over the vinyl and gently lowering the stylus onto its grooves – all the while not letting go of her hand. I'm not gonna let her go.

The soulful voice of Frankie Valli begins to fill the atmosphere and I guide her towards a nearby space surrounded by mason jars. The light from the lit candles in each jar dances and flickers in her eyes as I take her by the waist with both hands, swirling us around and around as we waltz along to the music. At the second verse, I shift and lean in towards her – my lips barely touching her ear.

 _Just the way she did_.

_Pardon the way that I stare / there's nothing else to compare / the sight of you leaves me weak / there are no words left to speak / but if you feel like I feel / please let me know that it's real / you're just too good to be true / can't take my eyes off of you_

I stop the waltz and pull back to cup her soaked face in my hands. She lifts her own to my waist and clings on tightly to the shirt. We stay like that for a moment, the melody slowly fading off leaving us in its silent aftermath. With the crickets as my orchestra, I look her in the eye and begin to sing again. Making sure my own voice is low and soft, so that it's for her ears and her ears only.

_I love you baby / and if it's quite all right / I need you baby / to warm up all my nights / I love you baby / trust in me when I say "It's okay" / Oh pretty baby / don't let me down / I pray / Oh pretty baby / now that I found you / stay / and let me love you baby / oh let me love you_

She remains still as I press my lips to her forehead, feeling its heat against my cheeks. Her wet eyes not betraying any emotion as she awaits my next move. She knows there's more. I didn't need to utter a word.

"Come on." She says, tugging at my shirt.

I lead her round the last corner and this time she lets out an audible, almost erring on excitable gasp. A huge blanket fort stood in the middle, complete with glow sticks of every color. Glow sticks, and glow sticks only. I quirk a smile at her and pull her into the fort. Her eyes wandering her surroundings as she settles down onto one of the many pillows. I reach over and cover her legs with a blanket. Our fingers graze each other's at the action and I freeze.

Whilst the dance earlier could be said to be rather intimate after being apart for so long, this being just us alone in the fort brings that intimacy to a whole new level. In the silence created by the thick blanket walls and pillows, I can hear my heart pounding against my ears and I bite down hard on my lip to stop it from shaking.  _Last stop, Mitchell. You can do this. Go._

I turn and dig around the blankets, trying to find the last stack of-

"Looking for these?" I wheel around, my face turning red instantly at the sight of the stack of placards in her hands. She smirks and hands them over before crossing her arms in front of her chest with an air of expectancy. Her eyes almost spelt out  _Game on, Mitchell._

I take a deep breath and let it slowly exhale through my mouth. Alright. This is it. Make or break, Mitch – make or break.

 _ **When you were gone, I had no thunder buddy.**_ Okay, she looks terribly unimpressed.

_**So I made forts in remembrance of you.** _

_**Sometimes.** _

_**(Because it doesn't thunder at every rain.)**_ Her cheeks puff up as she tries to suppress a giggle.

_**Then I realized, it's no fun to build them without you.** _

_**I ask myself, why?** _

_**And my heart said to me,**_ She arches her eyebrows, mouthing "Your heart?" I ignore her. For now.

_**Because you're my fort.** _

_**And my arms feel cold without you in them.**_ She finally gives in and she lands in a fit of giggles. I roll my eyes and stretch out my arms. She calms down enough to peer over at them – her eyes darting to mine before she leans forward and lets me wrap them around her back in a bear hug. Our bodies flush against each other's.

"This is how a fort should feel like." She whispers, her face in the crook of my neck.

"I'm not done yet."

"You're not?" She pulls back slightly, her eyes dazed. I smile and set her back against the propped-up pillow throne before picking up the last few placards.

 _ **Remember those glow sticks?**_ She nods, hesitantly.

_**You're just like them.** _

_**You light up my world,** _

_**and chase away every darkness left in it.** _

_**I promise this:** _

_**You will never lose me.** _

_**Because I have so much of you in my heart.** _

Before I know it, I'm engulfed in her arms and bosom. My shirt slowly soaking up as her torrent of tears rages upon the fabric. I don't mind. Not one bit.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It makes me realize how much I can't do without you." I pull back and lean my forehead against hers.

"But Beca, I'm going to need you more than you'd need me, okay? We're going to have to make all those trips to Dr-"

"Then we'll make them! We'll go together. You and me – we need each other. Can't you see?"

"But baby, what if-"

"Le- Let- Let's just say there's this alternate universe and there's a couple just like us. Only – the badass isn't as broken and the pretty one isn't sick. And all they have to worry about is who's going to bake the next cookie, or- or where they're headed for vacation, or whether they feel guilty about making love on Aubrey's couch. You see: I don't want to be that couple. I want us. You. This."

"And it's enough for you? I'm enough for you?"

"Yes. You came and you altered my life forever. You made me realize there is no one else in my future but you. You're more than enough for me, Chlo, you're more than enough. I love you."

"You- You love me."

"Yes." I pause, ducking my line of sight to her lips before flicking back to meet her eyes. "Do you? Will you?"

I press in, hands cupping her drenched cheeks, searching her heart out as tears start to prick at my eyes again. Her face slowly breaks into a crying smile. Or a smiling cry.

Either way, she's beautiful.

* * *

" _Why do you think Aubrey and Stacie would want a snowy wedding?" She asked, throwing four packs of spaghetti into the buggy. I shrugged, pushing the buggy along as we strolled down the aisle, looking for things to buy._

" _Uh, maybe they want it to be special? Something like white christmas?"_

_The redhead pulled at the buggy and turned it, directing it into the next aisle. "Stacie loves the winter."_

" _Really," I tip-toed and made a fruitless grab at the top shelf. "Can you help me grab that marmalade?"_

" _This?" She grasped it in her hand easily, making me pout – indignant. "Oh c'mon baby, you're still cute."_

" _I am bad ass." I snatched the jar from her grasp and carefully placed the item into the buggy, nestling it between two bags of spinaches._

_We continued down the aisle, making comments about some of the weird processed food and laughing at those downright ridiculous ones. Her arm hooked around mine as we walked in equal pace. I sneaked sideway glances at her, flushing whenever she caught me. When she did, she would smirk – a corner of her lips curl up towards her eye as she narrowed them at me._

" _Beca," she literally purred, "why are you staring at me?"_

" _Nothing." I took a gander around the shelves that towered over us, "hey look."_

_I held on to the buggy and halted her steps. She turned and faced me, her eyebrows arched with curiosity. I jabbed my thumb at the rows of cereal boxes, redirecting her attention._

" _What do you think of this costume I have in mind for Bumper's upcoming costume party?"_

" _What costume?" I grabbed two cereal boxes and pretended to have them stuck on my body._

" _A cereal box body suit!"_

" _Okay, why's that?"_

" _Because," I tilted my head and strained my voice, leaning in towards her – close enough to be freaky but far enough to avoid intimacy, "why so cereals?"_

" _You're an idiot."_

* * *

"Beca? Beca, wake up."

I struggle to peel my eyes open, squeezing them shut the moment they make contact with the sun. Instead of using an alarm clock, the redhead would pull the curtains open and let the sun greet what she's termed as "my lazy butt".

"I can't see!" I whine, dragging the last syllable as I turn to bury my face into her pillow – the side that  **isn't**  assaulted by the burning brightness. I can hear her sigh as she straddles my butt. Her fingers slowly making their way up my back, marking their territory with pinches and tiny jabs before resting on my shoulders.

"Wake up," she whispers, her voice muffled with her head next to mine as she lies down atop of me. "Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake-"

"You put me through such a long night and you want me to wake up now?"

"It's not that long, plus it's just one round."

I lift my head to scoff at her words, rolling my eyes (and head) dramatically to place emphasis, "One round? That one round lasted 3 hours!"

She giggles and sits up, patting on my shoulder as she slides off my back, "Yeah, you're one energizer bunny. Come on, I made you breakfast."

I peek an eye out from under her pillow, "My favorite?"

"Your favorite."

* * *

I rub my eyes sleepily as I trudge into the kitchen. The aroma of scrambled eggs and rosemary hits me like a truck out of nowhere and I instantly become alert and sober. Not that I'm drunk – I'm just really tired.

After Chloe got discharged from the hospital and rested for a week, the two of us got back into work mode and restarted our plans for the Staubrey wedding. It's already fall and the trees have slowly shed their green, choosing orange and red hues for color. The redhead herself, so excited to be finally free from the horror that haunted her for the past year, has thrown herself into the first pile of dried leaves she sees.

It's endearing.

Anyway, given Aubrey's high standards and Stacie's quirky requests (though not as outrageous as a certain Ms Swift), both Chloe and I have worked till the wee hours on most work nights, planning and sourcing out the best caterer, location, wedding design, the gowns, etc. We'd told the redhead to not overexert herself but the excited ball of energy – having been cooped indoors and in bed for so long, bursted onto scene and took up her drawing pad the moment Ms Dean gave the green light for her return. Her body starts to gain strength everyday as she ploughs on, meeting deadlines way before they become dead.

On some nights, she'd even requested for me to turn in early, telling me that  **I** should rest. I'd scoff at her but the glare in return makes it difficult to not accede to her request. Of course I'd simply lay in bed, eyes closed to pretend sleep but I was really just counting down to the second when I could cuddle up with her under the covers.

"Here's your sautéed shiitake mushrooms and parma ham." She says in a singsong voice, placing a plate on the table in front of me with a bright grin. I shoot her a curious glance, wondering why she's extra chirpy today. Something's up. Before I can utter a response, our front door bursts open and a frantic blonde comes running in. Her arms flailing everywhere as she repeats the day's itinerary to herself. Loudly.

"Pack, drive, shoot. Pack, drive, shoot."

"Pick up."

"What?"

"You have to pick Stacie up from her mom's later, remember? So technically it is pack, drive, pick up, shoot."

Chloe slaps me lightly on the shoulder and walks over to the blonde who has slumped down in our couch. I watch through mouthfuls of breakfast as the redhead calms the blonde down, whispering (probably) assuring words into her ears. I can't help but smile at the scene: my best friend being comforted by the love of my life. Aubrey takes a huge breath and finally chills out. She grabs and squeezes Chloe's thigh before standing up and walking towards me.

"Morning pint size."

"No."

"Um, cute little pet whom I want to keep under my bed?"

"Why, Aubrey, why? Either way, I'm still insulted."

"Whatever, christmas elf. Anyway," she shoots a glance Chloe's way before turning back to me, "I'll be packing up and heading to the location later after getting Stace. You guys okay to make your way there yourselves?"

I nod, sending her on her way with a wave of my fork. It's going to be a long day.

* * *

" _Look! I'm a cat. Meow!" I laughed, smiling crazily as the redhead imitated a kitty licking her paw clean. I reached over and messed up her faux cat ears made out of white foam and bubbles. I could feel her nipping at my lower calves with her toes as she struggled to get out of my reach._

" _No! I like my ears."_

" _Bubble ears."_

_I squirmed as she blew a load of foam towards my face, blinking as some of it got into my eyes. With my sight temporarily out of service, I could only rely on my other senses to maneuver around the bathtub. Sounds of soapy water splashing around – against the wall, against my face (again), water against water were heard as she climbed out of the tub. I quickly rubbed hard at my eyes, willing myself to see her in her naked glory. It's one thing to see her disrobed in bed; it's another to see her like that covered with bubbles._

_Glorious bubbles._

" _Perv," she knocked my head and shoved something into my hand. "Here's the shower head, wash those off your eyes. I don't want my girlfriend to go blind. And please scoot forward."_

_I obeyed, my eyes still stung and tearing slightly. I lifted the shower head to my face and let the soft jet wash away the remaining foam from my eyes. Behind me, I could hear some movements and a little while later – a tiny splash of water against my body as she climbed back into the tub. I could feel her legs running along my sides before wrapping around my waist; her hands on my shoulders as she eased me back into her embrace._

" _Feel better?" I nodded, relishing in the warm contact of our skins together. I could feel her lips curl into a smile as she leaned into the side of my face, planting soft kisses here and there as she hummed our song._

" _I'm happy," I whispered, tangling my fingers in hers. "I'm really happy you're here."_

" _Me too." Her breath hot against the back of my neck. I craned back and gazed into her eyes. Happy tears. My world went black in that instance as she leaned forward to capture my lips. When we pulled away, I couldn't help but say_

" _Thank you for saving yourself."_

* * *

"Baby, should we-"

"Renovate our apartment? Sure."

"How do you know? Turn left at the next junction." I nod, stepping down on the brakes to ease the car to a stop, watching the light in front of us switch from amber to red.

"I saw you reading those magazines again. Besides, it'll be nice to have a change." I feel her hand running up and down my arm and I turn to face her. Her eyes are piercing blue today and it matches the white flannel shirt she's donned.

 **My** flannel shirt. The redhead's seriously taking over my wardrobe. One day, she'll take over my lif- Oh wait, she did; she already did.

"Why are you so charming, B?" I laugh, pressing down on the accelerator and pulling the vehicle forward as we continue to head towards the wooded area.

* * *

" _Beca! Beca Mitchell – are you in here? Hey!" A very flustered-looking blonde stopped short at my apartment's threshold, her breaths erratic and weirdly loud. She must have ran all the way here. "What the heck are you doing here?"_

_I frowned and gestured at the opened boxes around me._

" _I'm unpacking. Is it not obvious? Let me show you." I huffed and puffed as I lifted a pile of folded t-shirts from one of the boxes, dropping them into one of the plastic drawers Chloe and I've bought from MUJI with a deliberate oomph. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Aubrey rolling her eyes whilst placing a hand on her hip._

" _Very obvious, Mitchell. Very funny too – I'd give you that. Now, please do tell: why on earth are you here when Chloe's right at Peace Hill now one day before the big surgery?"_

" _Because," I paused what I was doing and stood up, "I need to make sure she has a place to stay."_

" _Right now. You must make sure she has a place to stay right now. You serious."_

_I raised my shoulders in a non-committal shrug and continued bustling around the apartment, all the time ignoring the blonde's glares. Okay, how would she want her shoes to be categorized? Shit I'm becoming Aubrey._

" _Let me do it."_

_What? I spun around to see my best friend kneeling down in front of the new shoe cabinet that I've just bought for the redhead. So that she doesn't have to split her collection at Claire's again. The blonde quirked an eyebrow at me, two pairs of shoes hanging off her fingers in midair._

" _Go, B. Chloe needs you. I'll help you unpack."_

" _But-"_

" _Hey, who does unpacking and packing better than me? Go on. I need a break from that Jones case anyway."_

_I found myself walking towards her, crossing the entire living room in a few strides and threw myself on her – wrapping my arms around her as tightly as I could. She dropped the shoes as she jerked forward from the impact. "What the-"_

" _Thank you," I said, my face buried in the back of her neck, "thank you, Bree. Thank you so much."_

_She chuckled and patted my forearm, craning back to plant a kiss on my right temple. "Silly. Now go. She needs you. And tell Stacie I'll be back at the hospital in the evening."_

" _I will. Love you, Posen."_

" _I know."_

* * *

Stacie is the first to spot us and runs right over, her smile as dazzling and glamourous as her gown.

According to Chloe, the couple has chosen matching wardrobe and that they're all body-hugging at all the right places, showing off their hours done at the gym. I shove my glasses further up my nose bridge for a clearer look at the approaching brunette. She's decked out in high heels today which further accentuates her legs and hip area. Her snow-white lace empire sheath gown cuts off right above the knees and plunges deep at the neck, finishing off with a chiffon drape at the waist.

"Hey you beautiful woman!" Chloe squeals, her arms lifted up and open as Stacie dives into her embrace. I scratch at my chin, my mind running through the couple's wedding file.

"Is this your ceremonial gown or-"

"It's for the reception." Aubrey cuts right in as she wraps her arm around her bride-to-be. Stacie smiles and pecks her softly on the lips. "Clearly, Chloe's the one who helped us with the wardrobe."

"Hey, I helped pick out all your venues – except this one. I didn't know you guys slotted this place in your itinerary..." My voice trails off as I walk further into the wooded expanse towards the camera crew, darting my eyes at the trees and canopies around me. My eyebrows arch up high as I take in the sight of hanging mason jars filled with lit tealight candles. The whole place is set up like a scene from a fairy tale - which one, I've no idea. Not that much of a fan, but heard enough from Chloe to know it's something like this.

Aubrey clears her throat loudly, breaking my unreserved reverie and amazement at the place. I wheel around, a gasp escaping from my lips when I finally notice her and her gear in full glory. The blonde's ivory-colored gown resembles that of a Chinese  _cheongsam –_  complete with Mandarin high collar and embroidery, and short cap petal sleeves. The high slit on the left side of the dress shows off her perfectly-tanned leg.

"I like your hair." I say quietly, reaching up to wrap my arm around her neck, pulling her in. Her blonde locks are curled at the ends and swept back and up into an up-do – the curls bunched together into a side bun on her left. "You look beautiful."

"Talk about yourself," Chloe gently tugs me away and inserts herself into my arm, wrapping them around the front of her waist. I dig my chin into her shoulder and look on as the couple indulge themselves with sweet-nothings and soft touches.

The redhead rubs her cheek against mine and cranes to look me in the eye, "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know. I kind of want this, you know?

"I want this too." I frown.

"This isn't you asking me to marry you, right?" She starts out giggling, and somehow my question seems to keep repeating in her head – her laughter gradually builds and now she's in a full-on cackle. The ruckus attracts the attention from the couple nearby, halting whatever they're doing.

Aubrey arches her eyebrow at me as they step up right next to us. Chloe coughs and sputters, trying to keep her breathing in check. Stacie nudges me and jerks her head at her best friend.

"What happened?"

"She- I-"

"She thought I was asking her to marry me." Somehow the ridiculously amused look on her face has ignited something in me. Something that isn't pleasant. I feel my face scrunching into a scowl and I take a step back from the redhead. I need some space.

"It's not funny."

"Oh it sure- Babe?" The redhead finally stops laughing as worry and solemnness take over her features. She tries to approach me – her hand stretches out to reach me but I step even further away. A tense cloud of silence descends upon us.

"Babe?"

"I'm- I'm gonna go walk around for a bit. I'll be back in a jif-"

"Oh my gosh!" Stacie suddenly lets out a yelp, breaking the tension. She looks frantically around, her hands running up and down her gown as if in search of something. She then freezes and slowly lifts her head, her eyes fixed on Aubrey.

"I lost my ring."

"What?" Our voices echo throughout the woods, disturbing the peace of the birds resting nearby, sending them flying.

The brunette starts to well with tears; her lips pursed and her teeth clenched as she struggles not to let the waterworks flow and damage her makeup. "What should we do? That's the ring my great grandma's left for me. Aubrey..."

"Don't worry. We'll all look for it." I pipe up, wanting to use this chance to get away from the redhead. Aubrey nods her agreement and holds on to Stacie as they walk towards some bushes nearby to begin the search. I stop when I feel a tap on my shoulder and I spin around.

"Babe... I'm sorry."

"Never mind."

"Why don't you go look over that side?" She points towards the area to my left and away from the couple. I throw a glance in the direction she's pointed and nod, walking off without another word.

I can't believe she's thought our conversation earlier is funny and ridiculous. The way she's put her words, "I want it too." and the way she's looked at me when she said it fits the entire "Please marry me" scene. Was it ridiculous that I'd thought she's popping the question right there and then? Not that I would say no; I'd say yes and a million yes anytime, anywhere. She didn't have to laugh... Unless this whole entire thing is a joke to her? Ugh, why is Chloe Beale such a wonderment? No wonder she and Stacie are best buds. Peas in the same pod. Flying things of the same feather. Chips off the same-

"Huh?" I cast my eyes downwards and spots a red velvet box underneath my sole. I bend down and pick it up, dusting off dirt from its surface as I examine the box. Stacie's great grandma sure has the best taste – this ring is epically beautiful. Platinum with a polished wooden ring running in the lower half; a medium-sized diamond sparkles in its passion cut. I heave a sigh of relief for the brunette, ready to turn to rejoin and inform the group when the loud sound of someone clearing their throat startles me.

"You found it?" Her arms crossed in front of her chest as she eyes the tiny box in my hand. I roll my eyes and nod.

"Yeah." She paces over and retrieves the box from my hand, opening it up. I look at her intently, trying to search out the amazement in her cerulean eyes but find none. Of course there'll be none – as Stacie's Maid of Honor, Chloe must have seen this ring a million times.

Out of nowhere, music starts to play – filling the air around us with her dreamy voice. My ears perk and my heart starts to race. Wha- What is she doing? Wh- Wh- Why is she- She's kneeling down. She's kneeling down.

On one knee.

* * *

_My eyes flitted open as I felt someone running their fingers through my hair. I slowly lifted my face from my crossed arms and looked on ahead. A pair of bright cerulean eyes greeted me, making my lips curl up without resistance._

" _I must have done loads of good deeds this year." I whispered, not wanting to disrupt the peace in the ward._

" _Why's that?" Her hand has now traveled down south to caress my face. Her thumb running back and forth against my cheek and I leaned in to her touch. I missed this._

" _Because an angel woke me up." Both of us remained silent at my words for a while; her own lips curling upwards till they finally resembled some kind of a smirk._

" _Cheese balls." She slowly scooted away as I rose to sit next to her on the bed. She did the usual: pulling my arm over her head and leaning back with her head against the crook of my shoulder._

" _Dr Brun said that the surgery is overly successful. I don't think I've ever seen him so happy before. That man was literally delirious when he finally emerged from that operating theatre. I think my ears are still slightly ringing from all that yelling."_

_The redhead laughed lightly and snuggled closer to me. I reached back and grabbed a glass of water, lifting it to her lips. She took a few sips before requesting for the remote control. It felt like Déjà vu in that moment but it's not._

_It's us._

" _Let's watch your favorite show. I want to see her fall in love with-"_

" _She's already in love, babe. She's already in love."_

* * *

"Chlo-"

She holds up her palm and shakes her head, placing an invisible plug to my mouth. Her eyes pleading for me to listen.

"When I first met you, B - I was mortified at how much I like you. And then I realized – it's beyond that. I fell in love the way you are, slowly and then all at once; my first and my last. The way you hum quietly to yourself as you do your work, the way you quirk your eyebrows at things Fat Amy'd say, the way you turn on your heel just to change the direction of your walk, the way you reach with your tongue for the straw in your Starbucks cup, the way you laugh at those cat videos – everyday you'd move further into my heart.

I did try to push you out – what with all the bickering and earlier misunderstandings but you refused to budge. Instead, you've added more of yourself – bits and pieces each single day and made yourself comfortable in here. I love and fell in love with all those parts of you; I couldn't help myself. That night on the roof, you showed me what we could be and how we could be. And I wasn't afraid anymore. How could I? You took away my breath, you robbed me of the ability to utter words, you stole my heart – you'd done did these three felons on me. What else is left for me to be fearful of? You made me see how some infinities are bigger than other infinities. You made me love and fall in love."

There's a minute of silence as she pauses to catch up with her breath. My heart is now pounding against my eardrums, beads of perspiration forming on my temples as I continue frozen on the spot. I try to move but I can't. She's kept me spellbound. I watch as she lifts the velvet box higher towards me, her gaze fixed on mine.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Beca. I love you. Will you marry me?"

I lick my lips and bite down on my lower one. I can no longer feel my heart pounding. I can't feel my toes either. My breath? Gone. Senses of smell and taste? Gone. All I can see and feel is her and her only. Chloe Beale. Love of my life. My bantering partner. My thunder buddy.

_You're always trying to keep it real / and I'm in love with how you feel / I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else but you / I kiss you on the brain in the shadow of a train / I kiss you all starry-eyed / my body's swinging from side to side / I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else / but you_

Reaching out a shaky hand, she grabs on to me; I shiver involuntarily at the coldness of her palm and fingers – she must be a nervous wreck inside. The cool air sure isn't helping. With the ring hovering between her index finger and her thumb, her eyes search mine out. Our breaths becoming as one.

"Will you be my infinity?"

"Yes, and a million yes."


End file.
